


Paint Me In A Million Dreams

by green_feelings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, In betwenn they become friends so i guess it's also a, M/M, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 112,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9845606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_feelings/pseuds/green_feelings
Summary: Harry's one of Hollywood's biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There's just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry's in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood's biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese's next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity?In short, Harry's in love with someone and doesn't care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn't write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.





	1. So Blew

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dears! Here we go again with another fic :) The idea has been in the works for a while, and now I finally get to share it with you! 
> 
> Loads of thanks and love to my two betas, Addy and Andy who took a lot of time to work on this with me. Thank you so much, lovelies. I'm grateful for all the input you gave. This fic wouldn't be worth the read without you :) 
> 
> Special thanks to my sister, P, who helped develop the idea and who always, always, always gets excited with me. Thank you for pushing me <3 
> 
> Other than that, this is called fiction. 
> 
> Onto the fic now! Enjoy the read!!

 

“What do you mean,” Harry asked, leaning forwards in his chair. “I didn’t make it?” 

He should have known Nick had bad news for him. He rarely insisted for Harry to come into his office to talk over an offer. Nick was not only Harry’s agent, he was Harry’s friend, too. They met up for lunch or settled things over a simple phone call. That Nick had wanted to see Harry in his office should have been unsettling enough. Harry had ignored it altogether, which had probably been a bad idea. He should have been prepared for bad news. 

Nick sighed and folded his hands on the table. “Listen, Harry…” He fell silent again and took a deep breath. 

From his posture, Harry could tell that he was tense, uncomfortable even. Harry knew that look on Nick’s face all too well, too. Ever since Harry had had his big break-through four years ago, Nick had been by his side. They knew each other like a married couple did -- every mood, every look and every thought. If they didn't, they wouldn't be able to work together. 

Right now, Nick was struggling to find the right words. 

“Just say it, Nick.” Harry raised a brow and held Nick’s gaze. 

Nick ran a hand through his short, brown hair. It was growing back long now after he had shaved it off a few months ago. “They didn't see you fit for the role.” 

For a moment, Harry thought he’d heard wrong. Because-- It was a Scorsese film, and everyone knew that he tended to pick only the best. Harry had worked with him before. He was the perfect choice for the lead role in Scorsese’s new thriller. A highly intelligent jew, surviving the horrors of Buchenwald solely on his dry humour, wittiness and detachment from reality. 

Harry had loved every bit of the character when he had read the script. 

“Who do they see fit if not me?” he finally asked when he shook out of the initial shock of being rejected. 

“Good news is,” Nick changed the topic, breaking their eye contact, “they offer you the main supporting role. You know, the strong-willed nazi officer who risks his life to save the day. It’s a good role, in one of the most anticipated films for next year.” 

Harry gave him an unimpressed stare. “Don't give me that bullshit talk, Nick. Who got the main role?” 

Nick pulled a face. “You won't like it.” 

“I don't like that  _ I _ didn't get it.” Harry thought that over. “The only thing worse would be for someone like Louis Tomlinson to be the main. But let's be real, he never stood a chance when he went into that casting.” 

Now, Nick pressed his lips together. “Actually…” 

Harry could feel his own face fall, the muscles around his jaw loosening up, his mouth falling open. “No fucking way.” 

 

+++

 

“Hold that thought, Liam,” Louis said and jogged off the pitch to retrieve his ringing mobile phone from the pocket of his jacket. “Gotta check if it's someone important.” 

The display flashed Stan’s name and Louis held up one finger to signal Liam to give him a minute. “Stan, mate, what's up?”

“I'd have waited until the meeting, but you'll want to know this.” Stan sounded excited, his voice a little shaky. 

“Did I get that Scorsese film?” Louis' heart rate picked up speed upon the mere thought.

Liam walked closer, arms crossed and eyes curious. 

“You fucking did!” Stan almost shouted it through the line. “You got the fucking lead!” 

“You’re shitting me.” Louis didn’t even want to imagine this could be a joke. His throat felt tight and his knees threatened to give out under his weight any moment.

“I’m not shitting you with this kind of thing, Lou,” Stan said, sounding offended. “I told you you were brilliant. You always were.” 

“Fuck.” Louis exhaled the word on a breath. He looked at Liam and ungracefully plopped down onto the bench. “I… fuck.” 

“Louis?” Liam asked in a worried tone. He crouched down before Louis and placed a hand on Louis’ knee.

“It’s not all set in stone yet because they wanna see you in a casting again,” Stan went on explaining. “You know, a chemistry read.” 

“Any news on who's got the supporting lead?” Louis put his hand over Liam's to signal it wasn't bad news. 

“You won't like that bit.” Stan sighed quietly. “They didn't take any of the people who auditioned for the role. They took someone who auditioned for the protagonist, as well.”

Louis groaned and tilted his head back. “Let me guess. Harry fucking Styles.” 

“Indeed,” Stan replied. 

“Just my luck.” Louis got up from the bench again. “When?” 

“Get started on rehearsing. They wanna see you again on Friday.” 

“Text me the details.” Louis hung up, staring at the blank screen of his mobile phone, trying to figure out what he was feeling. 

“What’s going on, Lou?” Liam asked, pulling Louis back into the moment. 

“Scorsese wants me in the lead for his next film.” Saying it out loud felt like a lie. In what world did Scorsese pick someone like Louis over Harry Styles?

“That’s amazing! “ Liam hugged Louis, clapping his back. “That’s what you wanted for that image change, isn't it?”

Louis hummed,  frowning a little. “I want that role for me, Liam.” 

“That's what I meant, you know,” Liam said. He smiled fondly at Louis, still holding his arms. 

“But it's not quite the same. Stan wants the image change, and the role to cater to that. I want the role because it'll be interesting to do something I haven't done before. Also, I don’t have to mention how big it is for me to work with Scorsese, do I?” 

Louis led the way inside the house. They went through the wide patio doors that led outside into Louis' garden and football pitch. Inside, they stepped into the spacious kitchen and dining room. There was an old mahogany table big enough to host all of his family. And his family was big.

“I mean, it's good, isn't it?” Liam asked, opening the fridge to take out a bottle of water. “It's not gonna hurt your career, right?” 

“I guess,” Louis agreed and sat down on the work counter in the middle of the kitchen. “It's not why I want to come out, you know?” 

Liam’s expression turned a little harder. “I know, yeah.” 

And Liam would. While Louis' coming out was not going to be much of a big deal, it was entirely different for Liam. Louis was an A-List actor, but his sexuality didn't play a particularly big role when he was casted. There would  be articles and questions and comments, but most of the world was not going to care. For Louis, the coming out could probably even open a few doors. 

It was different for Liam. He was Britain's hottest singer-songwriter, selling out stadiums on his own worldwide. He was every girl’s celebrity crush. His sexuality had to stay under covers under every circumstance.  Which Liam didn't always deal too well with. 

“Guess it’s back to LA for you then, isn’t it?” Liam asked when Louis didn’t say anything.

“I’m afraid, yeah,” Louis agreed and took the bottle from Liam’s hand. “Have to be back on Friday.”

“I'll let my assistant know you'll stay in my house.” Liam took out his mobile, probably texting his assistant or making a note to do it later.

“Thanks, mate.”

Liam nodded, slipping his mobile back in his pocket. “And what's that about Harry Styles?” 

“They chose him for the lead support.” Louis rolled his eyes, thinking about the other man. They had met a few times before, and on none of those occasions had Louis come to like him. Styles was vain and arrogant. He thought of himself as superior to every other actor. “They wanna see us in another casting on Friday, see if we fit.” 

Liam laughed. “You won't.”

“Fuck off, I'm a professional.” Louis gasped in mock-offense. “I can certainly act like I like him. Love him, even.” 

“I'd like to see that.” 

“It won't come that far, fortunately.” Louis shrugged and hopped off the counter. “I suppose he'll  be all professional about it, too.” 

Liam hummed, taking back his bottle. “I expect him to be, yeah.” 

 

+++

 

He could always refuse the offer. 

Harry pursed his lips, one finger swiping over the bottom one. He put his car back in gear when the lights switched to green. 

Of course, that would be stupid. No one refused any part in a Scorsese production. The plain thought was ridiculous. It was horrifying that Harry even entertained the idea. 

According to Nick’s contact person, everyone had been surprised by Tomlinson's performance. No one had taken his audition seriously, until the moment he had stood on stage. Harry couldn't even imagine it, but apparently, Tomlinson had convinced them all in the mere ten minutes he'd been on stage. Which was odd, because he wasn’t actually known for quality acting. 

As far as Harry was concerned, Tomlinson was not to be taken seriously. Harry could appreciate a good romantic comedy, but those didn't require what a Scorsese required. They didn't even come close. 

Sighing, Harry parked in front of the restaurant's entrance and handed his keys over to a clerk when he got out. He thanked him quietly and made his way inside. 

“Mr Styles. Welcome,” a woman greeted him. “Mr Horan is waiting for you. If you may follow me?” 

Approaching the table, Harry saw Niall already seated, sipping some beer and typing on his mobile. 

“Who's preparing my food if you're out here?” he asked upon sitting down.

Niall looked up, grinning broadly. “I only ever cook in front of cameras anymore.” 

“Fame’s changed you.” Harry grinned back, folding his arms on the table. “Did you make my white chocolate and caramel cheesecake, though?” 

“Of course,” Niall replied. “No one can make them like me, eh?” 

“They’re the best!” Harry put a hand over his heart. Nothing came even close to Niall's white chocolate and caramel cheesecake. 

“So.” Niall leaned back when his entrée was served. “To what do I owe your sudden urge to see me?” 

Harry eyed the garlic shrimps on his plate. “Just heard you were in town and thought it'd be nice.”

“So, this got nothing to do with a new fake boyfriend?” 

Looking up, Harry met Niall's eye. “Do I even have to ask to bring them here anymore?” 

Niall shrugged. “Nah. First date is on me, as always.” 

“I'd want to give my fake boyfriends just the best for fake dating me.” Harry gave Niall a thumbs up after tasting the shrimps. 

“Who is it this year?” 

“Nick decided I should go for another field this time,” Harry said. “He arranged an agreement with Jason Summers’ management.” 

Niall gasped. “You gotta introduce me.” 

Smiling, Harry put down his fork and knife. He had expected Niall to react that way. He was a big football fan, and Jason Summers was one of Britain's most talented players. So talented that even coming out hadn't affected his eighty million transfer to Bayern Munich last season. 

“Sure thing.” 

“Footballer, though,” Niall mused, sighing quietly. “They're always on some sort of diet. It'll be hard to put together a proper menu.” 

“You’ve got enough time to think about it, don’t worry,” Harry reassured him. “The contract only starts in November.” 

“I'll probably be in London around that time, filming a new show.” 

Harry thanked the waiter when he quietly removed both Harry and Niall’s plates. “You will? What exactly?” 

“It's like, about food that people think is unhealthy, but really isn't if you just prepare it right.” Niall ran a hand through his brunette hair. “Diets and calorie counting. That’s rubbish. The body doesn't know.” 

Harry barked out a laugh. “The body doesn't know what?” 

“How many calories you take in.” Niall looked completely serious now. “Food is not about being healthy and low in calories. It's about being tasty and comforting. Making your day better.” 

There were a lot of reasons why Harry was friends with Niall, but this was probably the most prominent. He was always positive, always looking at the bright side of things. He refused to fit the norm, and with that, he had made it big in the industry. He had skyrocketed from sharing his recipes on a tumblr blog to Hollywood's biggest TV chef. And up until today, he hadn't had to bow to social expectations even once. 

“You’re my favourite,” Harry told him. 

Niall's eyes were sparkling with joy. “And yet, in four long years, you never even thought of making me your winter boyfriend.” 

Harry winced at the term, but laughed anyways. The press liked to refer to Harry's fauxmances he had each year from November to January as that. Of course, within the industry, everyone knew that each of Harry’s relationships had been fake, but it still fulfilled its task of keeping him relevant in the public eye. Nick used to say that every kind of publicity was good publicity. And Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't like he didn't get a say in any of it. He had liked each of the men he had dated for publicity; had always gathered new friendships from it. 

“You never made it clear you were up for it.” Harry wiggled his brows. “It’s not too late yet.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Guess dating me would be the end of any credibility of your little fake dating series.” 

Harry tilted his head. “Probably.” 

The waiter came back with the main course, placing a plate filled with what looked like ravioli in front of Harry. 

“Spinach and bacon cannelloni in a creamy white wine sauce with feta,” Niall explained. “You'll love it.” 

Harry picked a dried tomato on his fork and took a bite. “When did I ever not love any of your creations?” 

Niall grinned. “True.” 

For a while they ate in comfortable silence, then Niall made a gesture with his fork, mouth still full.

“How did that casting go?” he asked. “Did you hear back from them yet?” 

“I did. Yesterday, actually.” Harry resumed eating, throwing Niall a glance that hopefully said enough.

“He didn’t pick you?” Niall leaned closer, food forgotten. “I thought he'd personally request you after Rough Tides.” 

“He picked me for the lead support.” Harry shrugged. “Which is an interesting role, too.”

”But?” 

“I'm not that mad about not getting the lead.” Harry pursed his lips, shrugging. “I'm upset with whom they picked over me.”

Niall swallowed another bite. “Who is it?” 

Stabbing one of the cannelloni, Harry looked at Niall again. “Louis Tomlinson.” 

Raising a brow, Niall stopped his motion. “Wow. That’s an--- well, unusual pick, isn’t it?” 

“Not the kind of film he usually does,” Harry agreed. 

“I always thought he was a good actor.” Niall resumed eating, gesturing with his knife. “It’s about time he gets a chance to prove it.” 

“He may be good for shallow comedies, but he doesn’t have what it takes for a Scorsese.” Harry shook his head. “It’s too big for him.” 

Niall hummed, finishing his cannelloni. “They must have chosen him for a reason.” He shrugged, looking directly at Harry again. “But I get that you feel offended they chose an actor like him over you. It’s your expertise, not his.” 

Harry shrugged, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers. “I just hope I won’t have a lot of scenes with him.”

“Don’t you know that yet?” Niall asked and raised his brows. 

Harry shook his head. “We only got excerpts of the script.” 

“Well, maybe he’ll surprise you once you guys actually get to work together.”

“I doubt that,” Harry snorted at the thought. He had seen Louis Tomlinson act in his previous films. He was good in comedy, and had the most hilarious facial expressions. He  _ was _ good. Harry would give him that. He would just prefer to see him stay in his lane. 

Niall cut the thought short when he gestured for a waiter. “Ready for dessert?” 

Shoving the thoughts about Louis Tomlinson snatching Harry’s role from him aside, Harry beamed at Niall. “I’m always ready for dessert!” 

Niall winked. “You think you are, but you have no idea.” 

+++

Louis arrived in Los Angeles late Thursday night. He was snuck out LAX without drawing any attention, a car waiting for him in a secure spot. In the backseat, Louis almost fell asleep, but tried to keep himself awake by replying to texts from friends and family. 

At Liam’s house, lights were on and upon opening the door, a nice smell welcomed him. 

“Ah, Mr Tomlinson,” Katarina, Liam’s house manager, greeted him. She was a tiny woman, petite even, but the biggest force Louis had ever met. Her brown hair was tied back in a messy bun and she wore shorts and a tank top. “Welcome.” 

Louis hugged her tightly, patting her back. “Hi Kat. What’s going on here? Did you move in?” 

“Mr Tomlinson, what do you think of me?” She furrowed her brows. Louis had known her for three years and met her every time he stayed over at Liam’s house here -- which happened a lot -- but she refused to call him Louis, no matter how often he’d ask. “Of course not!” 

She didn’t have the greatest sense of humour, but Louis adored her anyway. “Thanks for preparing everything for me.” 

“Mr Payne left me a message to make sure you received a warm welcome.” She lowered the heat for whatever was simmering on the cooker. “Is there anything else you need?” 

“I’m good, Kat. Thanks.” Louis dropped to one of the chairs, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll just eat some of that amazing smelling food and then head to bed.” 

“I prepared the guest room and bathroom for you. The gym room and pool are ready to be used, too.” She pulled on a light jacket and made for the door. “Call me if you need anything.” 

“Will do,” Louis promised and waved after her. 

He yawned when he heard the front door fall shut behind her and dropped his head to the table. He was dead on his feet. Despite feeling tired, he forced himself to get up and get out a plate. Peering into the pot, he found pasta and minced meat in a light sauce. 

He’d get a house manager, too, if he ever bought a house in L.A. In London, he didn’t need one, because it was his private house and Louis liked taking care of his house himself. Well, that wasn’t completely true, because he had a nice couple coming once a week to clean the house in London. Katarina was different, though. She went shopping for Liam, redecorated the house, prepared everything for guests and made sure everything was in maintenance. Louis was convinced that he should be the one to spot a leaking pipe and call a plumber for it. 

Since he spent most of his time in London, he had bought a rather big house there. He only came to L.A. for work and refused to stay longer than necessary. He didn’t feel home in this city. So whenever he needed to stay longer, he’d just stay in a hotel or with Liam. 

He ate, texted Liam and took a shower. When he was finally in bed, he took out the script to go over the role once more. Yet, he fell asleep before he had even read three sentences. 

+++

Harry arrived at the studios ten minutes early. He had never been late to any of his appointments or for filming, not even once. If there was anything he didn’t want to be said about him, it was that he was unprofessional. 

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he greeted one of the assistants, shaking their hand. There were a few people in the room he had met during the casting, and he exchanged a few words with them before he moved on to the preparation room. 

Two more people were already there; Maggy Thornhill and Louis Tomlinson. They stopped the conversation upon Harry’s entrance. He put on a smile and went for Maggy first. 

“Hi Maggy,” he said and kissed her cheek, holding her hand between his own. “It’s lovely to see you again.” 

She smiled and kissed him back on the cheek. As far as Harry knew she was going to play one of the other jewish inmates. “Hi Harry. Good to see you, darling. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

“Oscars last year?” He tilted his head, trying to remember when he had last seen her. 

“Something like that.” She patted the chair next to herself. “Sit down.” 

Harry nodded, but turned again. He approached Louis and held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you.”

Louis got up from his chair and took Harry’s hand. Harry had seen him in films and on some events, but never this close up and just-- real. He was attractive, that was a fact Harry couldn’t deny. His hair was soft and a little messy, curling gently over his ears. He had often heard Louis Tomlinson’s eyes being described as the clearest blue, and it was probably true. Harry had never met someone with such piercing blue eyes. He wore a simple t-shirt and dark jeans, neither of any specific brand if Harry could tell. 

Louis smiled kindly. “Louis. It’s a pleasure.” 

“You two have never met before?” Maggy asked as Harry sat down next to her. 

“I don’t think we have?” Harry shrugged. 

“We probably attended some events, but we haven’t been introduced.” Louis gave a small smile. “Somehow.” 

“What a pity!” Maggy shook her head. “I mean, Louis, we’ve never worked together, but you’re always been the best company at every party I’ve been to.” 

Louis chuckled at that. “Well, I hope you’ll find it just as great to work with me.” 

Of fucking course. Harry wasn’t surprised that Louis Tomlinson’s biggest quality were his party skills, apparently. Did he even take the role seriously? “Well, working on this film won’t be a party, will it?” 

Maggy hummed. “It won’t be an easy walk.” 

Louis was quiet for a moment, then he winked at her. “We’ll make it fun. It can’t be that difficult.” 

And cocky, too. Harry was already annoyed by him, and they had only been in a room together for a few minutes. “It’s not exactly a fun topic, is it? Concentration camps.” 

“I didn’t say that, did I?” Louis looked irritated. He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “No need to get so condescending, Styles.” 

“I--” Harry gasped at that. After that, Tomlinson had the nerve to call  _ him _ condescending? “I think you---” 

“Now, now,” Maggy cut in, patting Harry’s leg. “Calm down you two. What are you getting so worked up about?” 

“No idea what’s wrong with him.” Louis shrugged, eyes still trained on Harry. “Bad day?” 

Harry was about to answer when the door opened again and a group of people came in. Harry recognised a few more actors and a bunch of people from the filming team. 

“We’ll start in a few minutes. Please be ready to be called in,” a woman said. “Louis, would you please come with me?” 

Not even sparing Harry another glance, Louis got up and followed the woman out of the room. Harry stared after him, brows furrowed. He had hoped that Louis Tomlinson would turn out to be a decent guy, making up for his lacking acting skills. But no such luck. Louis Tomlinson was an arrogant bastard on top of being a mediocre actor. 

Harry should have known. 

He was pulled out of thought when someone sat down next to him, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned his face and recognised Peter Crawley, who he had worked with before. 

“Peter,” he greeted him, going in for a hug. They talked for a while, catching up on what each of them had been working on over the time they hadn’t seen each other. Just when Harry was talking about his last project, the door was opened again and a small boy came in. 

He wasn’t older than five and nervously looked around the room. His hands were fiddling with a plush toy and he looked around the room with uncertain eyes. 

Harry was the first one to get up from his chair. “Hi, love,” he said to the boy and crouched down in front of him. “I’m Harry.” 

“I’m Colin,” the boy replied, eyes settling on Harry. “My mom said it’s okay to go in.” 

American, Harry thought. He hadn’t read anything about a child in the script, and judging from everyone else’s faces in the room, neither had they. 

“Do you want to sit down, Colin?” Harry asked, gesturing to his chair. 

Colin followed him, his little feet in their addidas trainers hanging far above the floor when he sat down. “Thank you.” 

“What a polite, little boy you are,” Maggy said from his right and leaned a little closer to Colin. “It’s very nice to meet you.” 

The door opened again, and Maggy and Peter were asked to leave the room. Harry took Maggy’s seat and watched the other people in the room talk to Colin. 

“Are you here to play in the film?” Romina Hobbs asked him. 

Colin nodded, his thick, dark hair bouncing with it. “It’s a very important role, my mom said.” 

Harry was curious to what kind of role the boy would take in the film. There was no reason to be impatient, though. He was sure he’d find out soon. If everything went smoothly today, he’d get a full version of the script within the next few days. 

“Mr Styles?” someone asked from the door and Harry got up from his chair. He was a little surprised when the woman added, “and Colin, you can come with us, too.” 

Harry greeted everyone in the practice room when he came in, Colin trailing behind him. Louis, Maggy and Peter were all in position already, apparently having already acted out a scene already.

Harry was told to play a short scene with Maggy first, then with Peter. His character was a very isolated one, not interacting much more with other characters than to give orders. While he prepared for the short scene with Peter, he caught Louis talking to Colin, both giggling about something. 

He focused back on the scene he was about to do, trying to get into character. Peter was going to play another SS officer, one much more corrupt and unethical than the one Harry was going to portray. It was easy to get into character with Peter. He was about twice as old as Harry, and when they had filmed together at the beginning of Harry’s career, he had learned a lot from Peter. 

“Thanks,” Scorsese said afterwards, not giving away anything with his tone. Harry remembered being very intimidated by it when he had worked with him for the first time. Now, he simply nodded and waited for further instructions. “Styles and the boy are next.” 

The boy, Harry thought. It was very typical for Scorsese, too, that he didn’t give a child any special treatment. Harry would make sure to keep an eye on Colin when filming, to make sure he wouldn’t get lonely, and got to laugh and play -- just a be a child -- in between working. 

Peter left and Colin took his place, looking at the director with expectant eyes. They were both handed a page, a short scene written out on it. The woman from earlier came up to them and knelt down next to Colin. On his paper, Harry saw that there wasn’t any text for Colin, only for him. In these character reads it wasn’t about correct script citing, anyways, just about getting a grip on your own and your partner’s character. 

Harry read the scene carefully, remembering what he could, trying to get into the right mood. When Colin gave the signal that he was ready, the woman left and Harry exchanged a quick glance with Colin, winking at him, before they got the signal to start. 

Slowly, with a thoughtful expression on his face, Harry approached the child, making sure his posture gave away defeat. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked quietly, watching Colin. He blinked once, innocently looking up at Harry. “You poor, little devil. They sent you for certain death.” 

Colin took a step back, his expression changing to something fearful. He was good, Harry thought as he waited a moment, letting Colin’s reaction take effect. 

“And yet, you have chosen none of this,” Harry mused, tilting his head slightly. “You have not chosen to be born into a family of scum. You simply happen to be scum by birth.” He said it with no sympathy; voiced it as a fact. “And you’ll die as scum, despite these people trying to save you.”

Again, Colin didn’t move. He kept looking at Harry with an insecurity only a child could muster up. 

Harry took another step closer and knelt down, coming to eye-level with the boy. “Why would they risk their lives to save yours?” he almost whispered, marvel in his tone. “You didn’t ask for it, did you? Who would ask for any of this.” 

“Perfect,” Scorsese interrupted. “Just like I imagined it. Thanks.” 

Harry smiled at Colin, and the boy grinned back. It was as if they were bonding over this, getting praised by a director who barely ever praised anyone. Harry got up again, straightening his clothes from kneeling down and looked back at Scorsese for more directions. 

“Tomlinson,” he simply said, gesturing for Louis to come forward. “This is very important. It’s the only scene where your three characters are in one frame.”

He didn’t need to say more. Harry knew that it meant the scene was of utmost importance for the film. With a little wariness inside, he watched Louis join them. He didn’t look nervous at all, instead he seemed to be very focused. 

Scorsese pointed to Colin. “You pick up the boy, and stand on that side over there. Styles, I need you on the other side.” All of them took their positions, waiting for more instructions. “Now, Tomlinson. You just got away. And you know it’s your only chance. This is the first and last time you’ll look back. Styles, you know it’s out of your hands. You could, but you’re not stopping them. You let them go. I need to see those things in exactly one look.” 

Harry nodded, looking at Louis briefly. He just hoped Louis was not going to fuck this up; it would ruin Harry’s chances, too. However, Louis didn’t seem bothered. He barely looked at Harry before he turned. Colin looked at Harry over Louis’ shoulder, eyes wide -- he was already in character. 

When Louis turned back around, he suddenly seemed out of breath and his eyes were piercing. He held Colin close to his chest and his eyes locked on Harry. Clenching his jaw, Harry looked back, moving not a single muscle in his body. He held his breath, and thought that Louis did, too. Then, Louis turned again and Harry relaxed. 

“Good. Not bad for a first take on it.” Scorsese nodded at him, looking pleased. “Thank you for your time.” 

“That’s all?” Harry asked. He had done this before and knew it could be an endless trial, especially with a director like Scorsese. 

“That’s all, yes,” he said. “I never doubted my picks, Harry.” He smiled, the switch to Harry’s first name indicating that this was a conversation outside of work. He only used last names when working. “This was just a confirmation of what I already knew. I’m working with professionals, and actors like you can adapt to anything and anyone, really.” 

Harry nodded, smiling back. He should have known he had a bit of an advantage after having worked with Scorsese before. Louis, on the other hand… Harry frowned slightly when they left the room, being led back to the waiting room to pick up their belongings. 

“You did well,” Louis said to Colin as they walked ahead. Harry followed them together with Peter and Maggy, both of them chatting idly among themselves. “You’re already a proper actor, aren’t you?” 

Colin giggled and shook his head. “I wanna be an actor like Harry.” 

Harry blinked, stopping when Louis turned to him. “Me?” he asked, finding his own voice sounding baffled. Maggy squeezed his shoulder and chuckled; Louis simply raised a brow, looking unimpressed. 

A woman waited outside the room, looking relieved when she spotted Colin. “Sweetheart, how did it go?” she asked and knelt down to hug him. Harry assumed she was Colin’s mother. 

Colin shrugged, but hugged her back. “He was nice. Like last time.” 

“Colin did really well,” Louis said. “We’re all very impressed by him.”

She looked up and upon seeing Harry, she gaped. “Oh, and you got to meet Harry Styles!” She got up and passed Louis without a glance, holding a hand out for Harry. “Colin is your biggest fan.” 

Harry smiled, taking her hand. “Well, and I’m already his.” 

“Did you hear that, baby?” She put a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “Isn’t that great?” 

Colin nodded, looking at Harry in awe. 

Harry knelt down and held out his hand for Colin, too. “I hope we’ll be friends.” 

“That’s so cool,” Colin replied with a wide smile, taking Harry’s hand eagerly. 

“We gotta leave, but it was very nice meeting you,” Colin’s mother said and Harry looked up in time to see her nod at everyone else, too. “I guess we’ll see you soon.” 

Maggy and Peter followed her and Colin outside, both saying goodbye to Harry with warm hugs. Harry looked after them, still smirking over Colin’s confession of being his fan. He was only twenty-seven, so telling someone he was their fan had only ever happened the other way around. It seemed like Harry was getting old enough to see younger, more inexperienced actors enter the scene. Actors who saw him as someone to look up to. The thought was flattering. 

“Well,” Louis drew him from his thoughts. He had his arms behind his back. “That chemistry read went better than I expected.” 

Harry nodded, the motion feeling a little stiff. “Looks like we caught him on a good day.” 

“Or, we probably just did a good job?” Louis shrugged. “I didn’t really have doubts about that.” 

“I don’t think you had any reasons to be so sure of yourself?” Harry raised a brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “As far as I know you haven’t worked with him before.” 

Louis turned to the door, rolling his eyes. “Is that a criteria to be a good actor? Am I missing some qualities if I haven’t?” 

“Dunno, but it seems to spell overestimation to me.” Harry followed Louis outside, taking out his car keys. “But I guess that’s none of my business.” 

“I guess, yeah.” Louis opened the car door and rested his arms on the roof of his sports car. “You know what, Styles? I had some kind of prejudiced image of you. And it was completely confirmed today.” 

Harry tilted his head. He was almost certain that he’d been insulted just now. Strangely, that didn’t offend him as much as it should. “That’s good, because my prejudiced image of you was confirmed just as well.” 

“Guess that makes us even,” Louis said. He didn’t look upset or angry. He simply said it matter-of-factly, and then got into his car, raising his hand once before he drove off. 

Harry stared after him while he got into his driver’s seat. “I guess it does,” he mumbled to himself. Whatever Louis Tomlinson thought of him wasn’t important. He had learned a long time ago that he couldn’t be friends with everyone and that, especially in the entertainment industry, there were more people who wanted to be his enemy than his friend. 

At least he had made one friend today. That wasn’t a bad balance, after all.  

+++

Filming began mid October. After endless meetings to read through the script and camera rehearsals in different groups, Louis was glad that they finally started to work in front of the camera. This was the real deal now, and Louis had missed it. 

For the first month, they filmed in Germany, and Louis felt the chills when they first got to Buchenwald. It was a grey autumn day, and the big yard behind the gates seemed completely lifeless. It took all of them a while to get used to the atmosphere and to filming in a place where millions of people had died less than a hundred years ago. 

He enjoyed working with the crew. Most of his scenes were shot with Maggy Thornhill and a number of supporting actors playing other inmates. During breaks, he got to get to know them better and was relieved that he got along so well with everyone. 

After his encounter with Harry Styles, Louis had been worried that the others could be as snobbish, but it turned out none of them was like that. He got along with all of them, and there wasn’t a single person amongst the other actors or on-set crew that doubted Scorsese’s decision to make Louis the main. After he had received the complete script for the film, Louis had noticed that while he got the main character, he wasn’t the most important one. The key figure in the plot was the boy. He didn’t even have a name, didn’t speak a single word throughout the film, but his presence was what the story revolved around. 

Another thing the full script had revealed was that there really was only one single scene he and Harry had to shoot together. Louis hadn’t been sure at first whether he was upset or relieved about it. Harry Styles had acted so superior to him, Louis would have liked to get a chance to prove to Harry that he was capable of acting in a Scorsese production. Also, Colin’s reaction had been like a kick to the stomach. Of course a child would see someone like Harry as an idol, not someone like Louis. It had reminded Louis once again that they usually played in different leagues. Louis knew that it had been the reason he hadn’t acted too humble himself. Something inside him had been lit; a will to not let Harry’s prejudices against him get confirmed. To not let Harry win this. 

Eventually, Louis would win this, anyway, because the final product was going to showcase Louis’ acting abilities. And there was no way Harry Styles would find a way to deny that Louis had done well. If Louis didn’t have any other motivation, this would be enough to keep him giving his best. 

The one scene they shot together went without any complications. Louis had prepared for that day excessively, and it only took eight takes for them to be let off the hook. He had learned that with a director like Scorsese, a scene could be shot up to fifty times if that’s what it took to meet his expectations. There had been a particular scene Louis had had to take more than twenty times. He had felt completely drained afterwards. 

The part he had to film with Harry and Colin went smoothly, in comparison. Somehow, Louis felt that both, himself and Harry, had put a lot of effort to get it over with as fast as possible. Harry had greeted him politely and Louis had greeted him back just as politely, but while he had had interesting, funny and serious conversations with his co-actors the other days, Louis hadn’t been talking to Harry at all. They had both talked to Colin, and Louis had to admit that the way Harry had talked to the boy had been the only nice thing about him so far. 

At the end of shooting, Louis had got out of his character’s clothes and one of the make-up artists had taken off all the layers of make-up and dirt they had covered him in. He had noticed that Harry had brought his own stylist, a young woman, not much older than him. They seemed friendly, and Louis thought of his younger sister. She was a professional stylist and make-up artist herself, but Louis hadn’t managed to convince her to work with him. She was hellbent on making a name for herself. Only for special occasions did she help out to get him dressed up and styled nicely. 

Just a few days before Christmas, filming ended and Louis immediately flew back to London. He arrived early in the morning and spent the day in his house, catching up on sleep. The next day, he drove up to Doncaster to visit his family. 

“My baby,” his mother greeted him as she opened the door and embraced him tightly. “You’re finally home.” 

Louis was almost thirty, just a day of being twenty-nine left, but he’d never complain about being his mum’s little boy. This, right here in her arms, was the one place on earth he could be the weakest and trust to never get hurt. He closed his eyes and held her close. “Hi, Mum.” 

“Come on in,” she said and pulled him through the door. It looked like she had cut and dyed her hair, but she had put it up in a messy bun, so Louis couldn’t tell. She went ahead to the kitchen, putting on the kettle. “Do you want something to eat?” 

“I’m good.” Louis sat down and ran a hand over his face. “Where is everyone else?” 

“Ernie and Doris are sleeping upstairs. Phoebe and Daisy are last minute gift shopping with friends, and Lottie and Tommy are gonna be here any minute.” She took two mugs from a cupboard. “And Fizzy is actually here. Don’t know why she hasn’t come down yet.” 

“I’ll go up in a minute,” Louis said. He watched his mother prepare tea and hummed appreciatively when she handed him a mug. “It’s good to be home.” 

“You barely called,” Jay complained. She cradled her own mug between her hands as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “How long will you stay?”

Louis shrugged. “However long you’ll have me.” He sipped from his tea. “I’ll be going to London for New Year’s Eve. Maybe the girls would like to tag along? You know, I could take them out for a bit, take them shopping and stuff.” 

Jay smiled. “I’m sure they’d love that.” For a moment, she was silent, then she tilted her head. “So, no new jobs for the time being?” 

“I won’t be working on a new film.” He swallowed, looking up to meet his mother’s gaze. “Stan said my coming out is my next big project.” 

“I see.” Jay hummed quietly, holding Louis’ gaze. “It’s a big step.” 

Louis nodded, his throat feeling a little tight. “It’s not gonna be a big deal for my career, especially not if the critics are impressed with the Scorsese film. It’s still a big deal for me.” 

Setting her mug down, Jay came over to pull Louis against her chest. “It’ll be all right, my love.” 

“What’s going on here?” Fizzy came into the room, and it took her a double check to recognise her brother. “Louis?” 

“Hey hey!” Louis squeezed his mother’s waist before he let go to open his arms for his sister. “So you’re home after all.” 

She was up in his space, cuddling close in a second. “I missed you.” 

Smiling, Louis leaned his cheek against her hair, arms tight around her shoulders. She was almost bigger than him, and Louis tried to pretend that didn’t happen. Soon enough he wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore, though. “Missed you, too.” 

“You gotta tell me all about working on that Scorsese film,” she demanded, tugging him along into the living room. “And about Harry Styles.” 

Louis frowned. “I didn’t know you’re a fan?” 

“What  _ do _ you know?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Of course I’m a fan.” 

“I didn’t raise you like that!” Louis clutched his chest in mock-horror. 

“Why? Is he that bad?” 

He shrugged, making himself comfortable on the sofa. “He’s a good actor, I guess. We didn’t really work together?” 

“But you’re in the same film,” Fizzy pointed out, sprawling at his side. 

“We had only one scene together.” Louis shrugged and ran a hand through her hair, pulling her a little closer for a cuddle. “I didn’t really like him when I met him.” 

Sighing, Fizzy slung an arm over Louis’ chest. “He seems so nice.” 

“He’s an actor.” 

“But, you know,” she said and raised his head to look at him. “I thought maybe you could be his boyfriend, and all. And he’ll become my brother-in-law.” 

Louis snorted. “You wouldn’t want that. Believe me, he’s not that great.” 

“And he’s dating Jason Summers now, anyway. Not like you could compete with him.” She pinched Louis’ tummy. 

“Excuse you,” Louis complained and pinched her back. Then he raised a brow. He hadn’t known Harry was dating Summers. Apparently, he had good taste in men, at least. Louis wondered if, after his coming out, he’d ever stand a chance with someone like Jason Summer’s, too. “Summer’s pretty hot, though.” 

“Shame he’s gay,” Fizzy agreed.

“You’re not supposed to think of any man like that.” Louis dropped the topic by attacking her with tickles, and she immediately got on it, tickling him back. Only when they dropped off the sofa in a heap of limbs did they stop, laughing uncontrollably. 

“Will you ever grow up?” Jay asked when she came in, setting down Louis’ mug and one for Fizzy on the sofa table. “You’ll ruin all the furniture.” 

“Sorry, mum,” Fizzy said and heaved herself back onto the sofa. “Let’s watch a Christmas movie.” 

“Good idea,” Louis agreed and plopped down next to her. 

Jay joined them, sitting right between them to pull both of them in. For a moment, Louis just snuggled into his mother’s warmth and forgot about the upcoming months. Right now, and for the next few days, all that mattered was his family. 

It was good to be home. 

===

 

A/N: The idea for the film they work on is loosely based on  _ Naked Among Wolves _ by Bruno Apitz 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hii! It's Monday! There's Elounope Drama going on, but I'm posting away my fic happily :)  
> Thank you loads and loads to Addy and Andy for being amazing and making this worth your while <3

 

_Eight months later_

 

With a champagne glass in one hand, the other buried in the pocket of his jeans, Harry looked over the crowd. He had sunglasses on, so no one saw where his eyes wandered. It was warm, way too warm to be spending time outside under the hot LA sun, but no one here seemed to care. All women wore shorts and breezy tops, or dresses that were short and light. Harry wished he had decided against the dark shirt and for one of the sheer ones instead, but he hadn’t, so he was stuck with it now.

It was Emily Takeda’s annual summer party. He hadn’t been able to attend last year, so she had made sure to invite him personally and remind him more than once to be there. Since filming for his next work had been over for more than a week, Harry had time anyway, and it was nice to have so many people from the industry gathered in one place without an official event being the reason.

The place was packed with people. Everyone who had made a name for themselves in Hollywood was in attendance: actors, directors, musicians, show hosts and models. With that, a number of paparazzi had arrived, as well. They were lurching around, cameras always ready. There had even been a red carpet event at the entrance to take pictures of everyone coming. By now, every news outlet in the world was probably reporting on this party.

“Hi, stranger.”

Harry turned and shoved his sunglasses up into his hair. It had grown pretty long over the last months and he’d soon have to come up with a different solution than sunglasses to hold it out of his face. He spotted Luke Connolly approaching him, holding a glass of champagne of his own. He looked as good as ever; small, almost dainty, but well-built. It wasn’t the first time Harry noticed his nice curves, but the jeans he was wearing and the simple t-shirt put a nice emphasis on them.

“Luke,” Harry said, turning completely. He smiled and tipped his glass against Luke’s. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” Luke agreed. His short, brown hair was slicked back in a quiff and as he smiled, the sunlight made his brown eyes look the colour of honey. Harry had noticed it before; so many times before. “How is your golfing coming along?”

Harry shrugged, letting go of an awkward laugh. “Well, I’m trying. NIall’s been teaching me, but I feel like I’m not getting any better.”

“Probably Niall’s not the best teacher, then?” Luke grinned, looking over the crowd. “I haven’t seen him in a while. How is he?”

“Good, good.” Harry followed Luke’s gaze. “He’s somewhere here. Doing the catering, as far as I know.”

“Brilliant,” Luke said. “Chris’s gonna love it.”

 _Chris_ , Harry thought, trying not to give anything away. Luke and Chris had been together ever since Harry had met Luke when they had worked together on a film three years ago. They had played friends, inseparable friends and thus, had got to know each other really well during that time. Ever since then, they had kept in touch.

Ever since then, Harry had also been in love with Luke; stupidly, hopelessly in love.

“Is Chris here?” he asked politely.

Luke pointed to a table near the swimming pool. “Right over there. He’s hit it up with Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry raised a brow, spotting Chris’ mop of dark curls, then Louis next to him, gesturing wildly. Chris was laughing and Louis seemed pleased. “Do you know him better? Louis Tomlinson?”

“Chris does.” Luke shrugged and rested his hand on Harry’s back. “Should we go join them?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry let Luke lead him over, his skin prickling where he touched Harry. His hand was warm through the fabric of Harry’s shirt and Harry liked the sensation. When Chris spotted him and practically beamed, Harry felt awful for where his thoughts had wandered.

“Look who I’ve found,” Luke announced, stepping up next to Chris and briefly touching his hand. “Hi, Louis. It’s good to see you again.”

Louis held out his hand to shake Luke’s. “It’s been ages, mate. Chris just told me about your holiday in South Africa. I’m proper jealous.”

Luke laughed, shaking his head. Harry had to remind himself not to stare. “We had a great time.” Then he pointed to Harry. “I believe you two have met?”

Louis nodded, extending his hand to Harry next. “Good to see you again.”

“Same,” Harry said, forcing himself to smile. “We’ve worked on a film together last year,” he explained for Luke and Chris then.

“Of course,” Chris said. “The Scorsese film! I heard about it.”

“It’s a great film.” Louis took his beer, rolling the bottle between his hands. “I can’t wait to see the final product.”

Harry hummed in agreement. He was saved from having to answer properly and actually converse with Louis when two more people joined their table. One of those two was Liam Payne. Harry had met him before, but the person with dark hair and pouty lips was unfamiliar.

“I hope you don’t mind us joining?” Liam asked, throwing an arm around Louis’ shoulders. Harry didn’t know Liam personally, but everyone who wasn’t living under a rock _knew_ Liam Payne. He was your pop star 101. Skyrocketing success since he’d been nineteen had saved him a spot in the high society of Hollywood for almost ten years now. All of the girls in Harry’s school had been fans of him, and later, he had managed a transition from teenage heartthrob to serious artist and, well, tween heartthrob. For the past three years, he had led the sexiest man alive lists.

“Liam,” Louis greeted him warmly, slinging his arm around Liam’s waist and grinning madly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Well, Louis, my boy,” Liam said and smiled fondly, running a thumb over Louis’ cheek, “you’d known if you texted me every once in a while.”

Harry raised a brow, remembering that Louis had just come out a few months ago. Every media outlet had been reporting on it. There had been countless interviews and articles Harry had seen. He had never had the struggle of having to come out publicly, so he wasn’t an expert, but he hadn’t liked how Louis had used his coming out as a career move. At least it had seemed like that when he had announced his next project to be the main cast in a thriller production.

Watching him with Liam, Harry wondered if those two had something going on. Then again, as far as he knew Liam Payne was straight. Which star didn’t have secrets, though? They seemed intimate with each other, familiar. Louis leaned into him, moulding into Liam’s side as though he had done it a million times before.

“Harry?”

Shaking out of his thoughts, Harry turned his attention to Luke. He had his head tilted and nodded in the other direction. Harry followed his gesture and saw the stranger had his hand stretched out to Harry.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Harry took his hand. “I’m Harry.”

“Zayn,” the man said, not seeming fazed. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Chris and Zayn worked together for Gucci in spring,” Luke explained. “He’s a good friend.”

Now, Liam held out his hand, a friendly smile directed at Harry. “I think we haven’t met, either. I’m Liam.”

“I feel like we have, though,” Harry replied and shook his head. Despite him seeming so close with Louis, Harry took an instant liking to Liam. “I’m Harry.”

“I know.” Liam’s grin turned a little wider. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Harry caught himself glancing at Louis, but immediately turned his eyes back to Liam. “Did you?”

“Of course. Is there anyone who hasn’t heard of you?”

That was a clever dodge of the question. “I think the same goes for you.”

They were interrupted when music started playing. On the broad terrace of the house, Emily Takeda was handed a microphone. She greeted her guests in a warm speech, welcoming all of them.

“I was lucky enough to get you the best chef in town for today’s buffet,” she said at the end of the speech, holding her hand out. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Niall Horan.”

Niall walked over to her, raising his hand in a wave. Harry smiled at how casual he looked next to Emily in her million-dollar summer dress. He wore simple jeans shorts and a blue t-shirt, as well as flip-flops.

“Thanks, folks,” Niall said as Emily gave him the microphone. “It’s summer, and all of you celebrate today. No bad conscience, yeah? Eat to your heart’s content.”

“That’s easy for him to say,” Chris murmured and Zayn chuckled.

Niall left the stage again and spotted Harry, his expression becoming even brighter. He jogged over and Harry opened his arms to receive a warm hug.

“Hi,” Harry said as Niall drew back.

Niall looked around the table. “Hi, mates. Nice to see you guys.”

“You wanna join us?” Harry asked.

“Can’t.” Niall made a face and gestured to the buffet. “I gotta keep an eye on my people; make sure everything goes well.”

Harry nodded, squeezing Niall’s arm reassuringly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Count on it.” Niall waved to the others. “Have fun, and eat loads. You two could need it.” He pointed at Chris and Zayn. “You look starved.”

With that, he was off again. Louis was laughing hysterically, and Liam looked amused, too. Zayn and Chris didn’t seem offended, though, so Harry decided he didn’t have to apologise for Niall’s behaviour.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” Louis announced. He kept his arm around Liam and it didn’t seem to be a question that he was tagging along. “See you guys around.”

With that they were gone and Harry frowned after them. His gaze fell on Louis’ bottle of beer that was still half-full.

“You think those two have something going on?” Luke voiced his thoughts.

“Liam’s not into boys, is he?” Chris asked. “He’s had a girlfriend for a long time.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be into boys,” Harry pointed out.

Luke shrugged. “Who knows, maybe they have something non-committal going on.”

“I think they’re just friends.” Zayn didn’t even look over to where Louis and Liam had their heads tilted closely together at the bar.

“It’s none of my business, anyway.” Harry looked away, taking another sip from his champagne. He’d need something else to drink soon, too.

“I thought you and Louis knew each other better?” Luke looked a little confused. “You spent a lot of time on set together, right?”

“We worked on the same film, yes.” Harry nodded. “But we didn’t have much screen time together. I saw him two or three times.”

“Oh, hey, but you worked with Peter again, didn’t you?”

Harry nodded, banning all thoughts about Louis Tomlinson from his mind. As he had said, it was none of his business.

+++

“You little shit,” Louis hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. “You’re shagging him!”

Liam pinched Louis’ arm, looking around wildly to check if anyone had heard them. “I’m not.”

“You totally are.” Louis looked back to the table, seeing Chris and Luke glance over at the same time. He quickly turned back around.

“Two beers,” Liam ordered, leaning against the counter. “I wish.”

Louis gaped and leaned in closer. “What’s going on with him?”

“We snogged a few times,” Liam admitted. “And that’s it. I gotta be careful, Lou.”

Louis pouted his lips, glancing back to the table. Zayn was laughing at something, his profile looking perfectly carved. When Liam had shown up with him by his side, Louis had known it in an instant. Not only because Zayn was exactly Liam’s type, but because of how Liam had looked at him, had quickly withdrawn his hand from Zayn’s back. Whenever Liam tried to seem unsuspicious, he was the most suspicious to Louis.

“How long has that been going on?” he asked, looking back at Liam.

Liam shrugged, taking a swipe of his beer. “I met him at a fashion show a few weeks ago. I performed, he was on the runway. We ended up snogging at the afterparty.”

“And what’s he got to say about it?” Louis rolled the bottle between his hands. “Is he out?”

“‘Course he is.” Liam’s brows knitted together as he stared at the counter top. “Who isn’t?”

Louis sighed and threw an arm around Liam. “Hey.”

“I hate it, Lou,” Liam complained. “But my label is entirely against it. I’m stuck for another two years. They say it’ll ruin my career.”

“You’re almost thirty,” Louis argued. “Times changed since you were nineteen, didn’t they?”

“Big part of my career is my image, and it’s still mostly women buying my music and coming to my shows.” Liam sighed heavily. “It’s just not in the cards for me right now.”

Louis hummed, watching the bottle between his hands. “But, you know, after those two years, when you can--”

“Spare me, Lou.” Liam sounded almost annoyed. “It’s not that easy for me, okay?”

Louis’ mouth snapped shut and he nodded. In a way, he understood what Liam felt like. For a long while, it hadn’t been in the cards for Louis either -- coming out and making his sexuality a topic. It hadn’t mattered for his career. However, now that he had taken that step, he had found that it did matter more than he had thought. Most reactions had been positive, but quite a few were negative, and Louis had hated the first few weeks where every conversation had been about his sexuality. He had felt reduced to that one little feature about himself.

“How is it for you?” Liam asked after a moment. “You haven’t said anything about a man yet. I thought now that you’re out, you’d be dating someone as soon as possible.”

Louis shrugged. “It’s not that easy,” he repeated Liam’s words, smirking at him.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Lou.”

“I _am_ serious.” Louis shrugged again and pouted his lips. “You know it doesn’t really make it easier. I don’t get to meet a lot of people who are genuine, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.” Liam sighed, raising his bottle to Louis. “Sorry to hear that, mate.”

Louis clinked his bottle against Liam’s. “Stan says a relationship would get me some good publicity. Especially when the Scorsese’s released. He’s looking into possible partners.”

“Stan’s choosing a boyfriend for you?”

“Stan’s choosing a publicity boyfriend for me,” Louis corrected. “Someone I pretend to date.”

“Oh,” Liam said, looking genuinely surprised. “I never thought you’d have to do that, now that you’re out.”

Louis knew what he meant. Liam was constantly fake dating women. For him, it was mostly to conceal his sexuality, though, and to keep up the pretense of being a ladies man. So that made sense, in a way. Louis hadn’t thought he’d ever have to do the same to prove his sexuality to anyone. It was more than ridiculous.

“It’s not that uncommon, though,” he replied. He glanced over to the table they’d been at before and saw Harry laughing, a hand put on Luke’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “As far as I know Harry Styles fake dates people once a year to stay in the papers.”

“I heard of that.” Liam hummed. “Wasn’t the last one he dated Jason Summers?”

“As far as I know, yeah.” Louis sighed and turned back around. “Now, he’d be someone I’d like to date, not just for pretense.”

“Who? Styles?” Liam looked back over his shoulder.

“No.” Louis frowned, pushing Liam not so gently. “What the fuck? As if I’d ever want anything to do with him. I mean Summers.”

Liam tilted his head, rubbing his arm where Louis had pushed him. “What’s so bad about Styles?”

“He’s a knob.”

“Is he?” Liam raised a brow. “He seems quite nice.”

“He’s arrogant and overbearing.” Louis shook his head. “Believe me, he’s nothing like he seems to be. I’ve seen his true colours.”

Liam hummed, glancing back at Harry again. “If you say so.”

“I don’t just say so.” Louis followed Liam’s gaze and watched Harry being quiet, his gaze fixed on Luke Connolly with an oddly sweet expression. “I _know_ so.”

+++

Three weeks later, Louis woke up to a blow-up in his Twitter notifications. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, blending out the rainy September morning painting the world outside his windows grey.

_Watched Rough Tides tonight. Still one of the best films ever made._

He frowned at that tweet. His account had made it around midnight when Louis himself had already been in bed. Looked like Stan had taken the freedom of tweeting for him once again.

For some odd reason, almost every reply he received mentioned Harry Styles, though. Frowning deeper, he searched for the reason, and quickly landed on Styles’ twitter page, seeing what had caused the commotion.

_@Louis_Tomlinson Thanks, pal. Really happy you enjoyed it xx_

Growling, Louis closed Twitter and pulled up What’sApp instead. He already had a new text from Stan, and Louis quickly read through it, trying to find an explanation for that Twitter incident.

_Louis, I scheduled a meeting at 2pm in my office. Got some exciting news and a bit of paperwork you need to sign. Also, I heard back from Givenchy and they’d like you for their new Spring Collection next year. You’ve got a meeting next week Friday in LA. I’ll arrange flights and a place to stay. See you at 2, be on time._

Checking his watch, Louis saw it was almost half twelve, so it didn’t make much sense to call Stan now. Instead, he should get dressed to be on his way to Stan’s office. He quickly replied to Stan’s text and then took a long, hot shower.

He’d had two rough days and sleeping for more than ten hours had been a luxury he had craved for a while. His muscles were still sore from all the training he’d had over the past weeks. The sum they had raised in the charity football match he had participated in had been worth it though. However, the full day of promotion that had been attached to it had been completely unnecessary. Those days were often more exhausting than the event itself.

He took his time showering, then shaved and got dressed. For a while, he pondered making breakfast but then decided he’d get something from Costa’s on his way. He called his driver and styled his hair while he waited for the car to arrive.

With a hot tea and some sweet pastry in his hands he walked into Stan’s office at five past two.

“Almost on time,” Stan commented, not looking up from his tablet.

“The queue at Costa’s was so long,” Louis offered as an explanation as he sat down.

“You should’ve tried Starbucks, then.”

“Over my dead body.” Louis put a hand on his chest. “Their tea is awful.”

Stan looked up and rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Nodding, Louis dropped the topic. “So what’s exactly going on with my Twitter?”

Leaning back in his chair, Stan laced his fingers and a brilliant grin took over his features. “Just making it all look a bit more natural.”

Louis frowned. “What? Promo for the film?”

“In a way.” Stan nodded thoughtfully. “It’s beneficial for the film, too.”

“What else is me tweeting about a Scorsese film beneficial for?”

“Didn’t you see who responded to it?”

“Harry Styles did, but what does he--” Sitting up straight in his chair, Louis almost spilled his tea. “You didn’t.”

“It’s actually quite brilliant,” Stan said, looking completely unfazed. “I talked to Nick, his agent. Harry’s got a winter boyfriend for November and December every year. You guys worked together on a film. It’s pretty convenient.”

“I’m not doing that,” Louis protested. He put down his cup on the table, standing up. “Not with Styles.”

“What’s your problem, Lou?” Stan crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes following Louis pacing around the room. “The media interest will be huge. You’re both playing top league. It’s foolproof.”

There were a million things running around Louis’ head, so many thoughts, but he settled on “Does he know about this?”

“Not yet. He’s in LA.”

“So we still got time to contact his people and undo this thing.” Louis pointed to the tablet in front of Stan. “Send him an e-mail. And we’ll sign off the Twitter thing as promo for the film. Done.”

Stan gave him a bemused expression. “We’ve set up the contracts. Because of the promo season starting in November, your contract for this PR obligation will last from October to January first.”

“I’m not signing this shit.”

“You are.”

“I bloody won’t sign any--”

“I’m afraid that’s not in your power, Louis. You signed a contract where you agreed to these things before we handled your coming out.” Stand sighed and pinched the back of his nose. “Do you want me to draw up the contract and show you what exactly you signed?”

Louis stared at him, feeling betrayed. “I thought we were friends.”

“For God’s sake, Lou!” Stan got up himself and approached him. “We are. I have no idea why you’re acting so melodramatic. You’ll just have to take a few pictures with him and upload them on your instagram account. Tweet him every once in a while. The occasional dinner together.”

Louis fell silent to that, still not convinced that this was a good idea.

“We’re not asking you to make a sex tape with him, Louis.”

That made Louis laugh -- because the mere idea of him and Harry Styles having sex was laughable. He banned the thought from his head and took a deep breath. “What about the promotion of the film. We’ll be seen together there.”

“And you’re both actors,” Stan pointed out. “We don’t expect you to kiss on the red carpet. We just ask you to act friendly. I guess that should be possible.”

Louis hummed and brought a hand up to his face, scratching his chin. “October starts next week.”

“It’d be a little too contrived if you’d started dating as soon as promo season for the film starts in November,” Stan explained.

“Everyone knows Harry Styles is fake dating, anyway.” Louis pursed his lips, crossing his arms now. “Within the industry it’s an open secret.”

“Just within the industry, though.” Stan sat down again, pulling out a few papers. “And the general public is blind to that. Also,” he added, raising a brow as he looked at Louis, “everyone knows, as well, that fake dating him comes with quite a few benefits. The list of people who applied is long.”

Louis’ mouth tasted sour. “Why am I not surprised to hear that?”

Stan shrugged. “Being associated with him is definitely gonna help your career.”

“What’s in there for him, then?” Louis wanted to know.

“Being associated with you is gonna help his career.” Stan held out a pen for Louis. “Ask him yourself why he thinks he needs to present a boyfriend to the press every year. Maybe it’s the same reason you have for doing this.”

“It was your idea, not mine,” Louis reminded him, eying the pen cautiously.

“And when was listening to me ever a bad idea?”

Louis didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. Stan had been right, though, presenting Louis in a relationship would help his image and would finally shut up all the people who were persisting that he had just come out for publicity and that it wasn’t really true.

Why would anyone do that? That was completely ridiculous. Yet, it was what Louis had to deal with. Everything had to be proven in this industry, and not a single thing was taken at face value. He just had to trust Stan on this one, it seemed.

Reluctantly, Louis took the pen and signed all the places Stan had marked for him.

+++

Harry casually shoved his hair out of his face with one hand, looking up directly into a camera lens. He closed the car door and locked it, then walked straight past the “No Parking” sign. He knew that it didn’t apply for him.

At the entrance, Cindy greeted him with open arms. He kissed her cheeks, knowing that they were still filmed and photographed.

“Harry,” she said with a warm tone. “Come on. We reserved you a special table.”

Which only meant that it was in good sight for the paparazzo they had hired for today’s lunch. They had to be early, so it was more of a brunch. After midday, there wouldn’t be enough light anymore, and it’d make the place look less of the sunnyside restaurant it was advertised as.

“Thanks, love,” he said and followed her onto the small patio.

“I’ll send someone to take your order.” With that she went back in and Harry sat down at the table that was set for two.

He wasn’t looking forward to this at all. Cindy was always lovely and he never minded coming here. Today, he thought of it as dreadful, though. He wished he could be anywhere else.

Today was his first outing with Louis Tomlinson.

Who was fashionably late, Harry realised as he glanced at his watch. They had been supposed to meet at eleven, which made Louis ten minutes late. Harry hoped that wasn’t a preview of how the upcoming three months would go. For some odd reason, he had the strange feeling that it was.

“Excuse me,” he heard someone say behind him and turned to see Louis rush over. “I didn’t find the place straight away.”

Harry frowned. What a lame excuse was that? “You didn’t find Café Habana straight away?”

“Well, it’s not exactly outstanding, is it?” Louis sat down and ran a hand through his hair. “What with the bigger buildings surrounding it and being located directly next to the highway.”

“You’ve never been here before?” Harry felt genuinely surprised and knew that it showed on his face, too.

Louis shrugged. “I’m not that fond of Malibu. I don’t come here often. Only when I have to.”

Even more confused, Harry decided to not prod the matter any further. “Well, don’t worry about being late.”

“Thanks,” Louis said, but he didn’t sound grateful at all. His tone was rather cold.

The waiter handed them menus and Louis immediately started looking through it. He hadn’t even properly looked at Harry yet. Not that Harry minded. He suspected that Louis had been as enthusiastic about signing those contracts as Harry had been. He probably didn’t feel less forced into this than Harry did. That had actually made Harry hope they could put their differences aside and try being neutral in this.

Apparently, Louis wasn’t planning to put anything aside.

Harry reached out his hand and put it over Louis’ that lay on the table. Louis’ head shot up and he stared at Harry in shock, pulling his hand back.

Harry rolled his eyes. “There’s a pap over there. Guess we should let him do his job.”

Louis glanced over, finding a paparazzo with his camera ready standing not too far away. He looked back at Harry and his mouth formed a thin line. Then he got up from his chair. “In that case, we should replay this whole thing.” He gestured for Harry to stand up, too.

As soon as Harry did, Louis wound his arms around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Harry caught a whiff of Louis’ shampoo and detergent. He was pretty sure Louis was wearing perfume, too. The hug was too short to focus on anything else; Louis was out of his space in a second. He sat down again and Harry did the same, clearing his throat.

“That probably looks more authentic, yeah,” he said, picking up his menu again.

Louis didn’t reply immediately, then he put away the menu and folded his arms on the table, watching Harry. Feeling Louis’ gaze on him, Harry put on an indifferent mask and kept reading the menu, until he decided on a dish and put it away. He took another second to compose himself, then he met Louis’ gaze straight on.

“So,” Louis said.

“So,” Harry echoed.

“This is even worse than I had imagined it.” Louis sighed, closing his mouth when the waiter came to take their orders.

Harry waited until he was gone again. “And I haven’t even said anything yet.”

Louis gave him an unamused smile for that. “I think our last conversation covered that.”

God, he really didn’t like the bloke. Harry bit his tongue, trying to hold back any remark on that. He’d just suffer through the next three months and forget about Louis Tomlinson as soon as January came around.

“However,” Louis added, and drew Harry’s attention back to him. “I don’t think there’s much use in hostility between us.”

“Can’t say you’re making that easy for me,” Harry muttered under his breath.

That actually drew a laugh from Louis, a small one, but a laugh. His eyes crinkled and he looked much more relaxed than before. “Look, I think it’s safe to say we don’t like each other very much.”

Harry hummed. “You could say that, yeah.”

“And we don’t have to like each other to pull this off.” Louis fell silent again when the waiter brought their drinks. He thanked him with a smile and then went on when the waiter was gone. “We’re professionals, yeah?”

“We are,” Harry agreed. “We can act for the sake of it.”

“And, you know, I thought about it.” Louis took a sip from the juice he had ordered. “It’s like a game, in a away?”

“A game?” Harry asked, taking his own glass in his hand.

“I told myself to just view it as a game. I’m fooling everyone. Or, well, we do.” A grin showed up on his face and vanished just as quickly. “It makes the whole thing a little more fun.”

Harry liked the idea. None of his previous fake boyfriends had viewed it that way. It had always been a work obligation. Sure, they had got along, so they had been pleasant work obligations -- but work, nevertheless.

“I like that,” Harry admitted. “That makes it feel less serious.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Louis smiled at him again, and even though it looked much genuine now, Harry took it and smiled back.

They sat in silence for a while, and Harry was still pondering if it was awkward when they were served their food. He heard the shutter of the camera going and ignored it as he cut the meat.

“Should you, like, try my food for the photos?” Louis asked, not glancing over at the paparazzo once.

Harry shrugged. “Not necessarily.” He watched Louis take a bite from his potatoes. “You’ve never done anything like this before?”

Louis shook his head. “Quite funny that I only have to do it after coming out.”

Harry thought about the articles he had seen, and how some had speculated about Louis really being gay. He wanted to say something about it, give some comfort that despite that backlash Louis had made the right decision. Maybe he wasn’t in the position to do that, though.

“You’ve been doing it every year, right?” Louis didn’t look up from his food as he spoke. “Any reasons why you keep dating people for publicity?”

For a moment, Harry just stared at Louis, waiting for him to look up and apologise for being so insensitive. Louis, however, was completely engrossed in eating, apparently not finding anything wrong in what he’d just asked.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Louis looked up now, raising a brow. “No, sure. None of my business. I’m just helping you out here by playing your next boyfriend.”

“Who’s helping out?” Harry put down his cutlery. “I wasn’t the only one looking for a fake boyfriend here.”

“You were looking before I did,” Louis argued. He shrugged. “I’m doing this once. You made a habit of it. I think it’s pretty clear who needs this more.”

“Oh, sod off.” Harry focused on his food, determined to finish it as quickly as possible, so he could leave. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re obnoxious.” Louis didn’t seem fazed by their fight at all. Harry wanted to strangle him.

Keeping his mouth shut, Harry continued eating, and apparently Louis agreed to the plan, as he didn’t say anything more either. Instead, they finished the meal in silence while the sun disappeared behind one of the taller buildings.

“If all of our outings are gonna go like this, it won’t be fun,” Louis pointed out when he was finished. “Didn’t we agree to make it a bit fun?”

“If you can stop being an insensitive jerk for an hour, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Harry replied coolly.

Louis just snorted out an unamused laugh and leaned back in his chair. Harry ignored it and gestured for the waiter who came with the bill straight away.

“I’ll pay,” Louis said, taking out his wallet.

“I’ll pay.” Harry put a few notes on the table. “First one’s always on me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Louis got up from his chair and put on his sunglasses. “I didn’t get the memo from your previous fake boyfriends.”

Harry rolled his eyes and followed him to the door.

“Harry, Louis, are you leaving already?” Cindy asked as she approached them from the counter.

“Sorry, tight schedule,” Louis lied smoothly and kissed her cheek.

Harry didn’t comment on it and hugged Cindy instead. “We’re still on for dinner on Thursday?”

“Absolutely.” Cindy squeezed him close. “The girls are looking forward to it.”

Louis was already outside with a cigarette lit up and his eyes behind sunglasses when Harry walked through the door. He couldn't tell if Louis was watching him or not. It made Harry feel uncomfortable

He unlocked his car and saw Louis’ brows knit together.

“You parked here?” Louis asked.

“That’s my car, yes.” Harry frowned -- because he had a key and had opened the car. Obviously, this was his car.

“It says _No Parking_.” Louis pointed at the sign right next to Harry’s car.

Harry looked at the sign and shrugged. “It’s no parking for the general public. That doesn’t count for me, though.”

Louis raised a brow. Harry could feel Louis’ eyes on him now, even if Harry couldn’t see them.

“Oh dear,” Louis just muttered. He took a step forward and gave the paparazzo a sign, then he kissed Harry’s cheek. His lips were dry against Harry’s skin, just a whisper of a touch.

Again, Harry was too surprised to act fast enough. Louis was gone again before he could’ve done anything. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t understand.” Louis buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans and turned around. “See you next week, Styles.”

Harry frowned after him, not saying anything. Instead, he felt even more annoyed at this deal than he had before. He had seriously, genuinely hoped that he’d come to like Louis a little more after getting to know him.

What Harry had learned about him, though, was that he was stubborn, insensitive and a know-it-all jerk. Hot, Harry added and frowned at himself. Of course, he had noticed that Louis was attractive before, but seeing him so up close, staring into those piercing, blue eyes had brought Harry’s blood to run a little warmer in his veins.

Although Harry could admit that Louis was attractive, he couldn’t _find_ him attractive at all. His pretty face and compact, curvy body weren’t worth a thing in combination with that foul personality.

This hadn’t helped him a bit to come to like Louis Tomlinson any more.

+++

“God, I hate him even more than before!”

Louis paced the room, still feeling a little raging with anger. Lottie was in front of the mirror in her bedroom, putting on makeup. “You don’t,” she said, brushing eye shadow onto her left lid.

With a growl, Louis left the spacious living room of his sister’s flat to stand in the doorframe to her bedroom. “I do.”

“You don’t.” Lottie rolled her eyes. She had her platinum blond hair tied up in a bun on top of her head. She still wore comfortable clothes; jogging bottoms and a wide t-shirt.

“I _do_ ,” Louis insisted. “You haven’t met him. How would you even know?”

“I know you, Lou.” She turned back to her mirror and kept styling herself. “You think he’s hot.”

Louis growled. He knew there wasn’t any use in lying to his sister. She’d see right through it anyway.

“He’s tall, his shoulders are broad, his hips slim. He’s exactly your type,” Lottie said before Louis could even make up a lie.

“He’s got dimples,” Louis added.

“See. You think he’s hot.”

Louis sighed and went over to the bed, falling onto it face first. He whined quietly and rolled over, so he could stare at the ceiling. “I hate him.”

“Didn’t we just establish that you’re hot for him?” Lottie asked.

“It’s so unfair.” Louis sat up to meet his sister’s gaze in the mirror. “He’s bloody hot, but he’s such a pretentious little fucker.”

Lottie raised a brow. “More so than you?”

“Sod off.” Louis crossed his legs, making himself more comfortable on the bed. “He parked right next to a _No Parking_ sign. When I told him, he acted all like _Excuse you, I’m Harry Styles, general rules don’t apply to me_. As if he’s better than the rest of the world.”

“Why does it bother you where he parks?” Lottie shook her head.

“Or,” Louis went on, because apparently his little sister didn’t understand. “He acted like he’s doing me a favour, fake dating me.”

Lottie turned around, tilting her head. “But he is, isn’t he?”

“I’m doing _him_ a favour!”

“I think it’s mutual,” Lottie said and went back to applying make-up. “You both profit from dating each other.”

“From pretending to date each other,” Louis corrected her. “And I guess that’s true, but he didn’t make it sound like that.”

“You probably just got him wrong.” Lottie got up from the chair and cleaned her hands on a cloth as she walked over to her wardrobe. “I think he’s just as aware as you are that it’s a contract for mutual benefits.”

“Why are you defending him?” Louis threw a pillow at her. “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m not defending him.” Lottie threw the pillow back, hitting Louis straight in the head. “I just know that you tend to exaggerate.”

“I’m not exaggerating. He’s really obnoxious.”

Lottie pulled the t-shirt over her head and Louis turned over, resting his cheek on one of the cushions to give her some privacy for changing. “Listen, Louis. You don’t even know the bloke.”

“Now you’re talking like mum.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her shed the jogging bottoms, too. Before she could put something else on, he sat up with an exasperated gasp. “You’re not wearing that!”

“Stop ogling me!” She pulled over a dress, her lace underwear disappearing beneath.

“I’m your brother, Lotts. I changed your nappies,” Louis reminded her. “Why the bloody hell are you wearing underwear like that?”

He only earned an annoyed look from her. Louis had received looks like that from her plenty of times. She was six years younger than him, so from all of his sisters, he was closest to her. She had been the first sibling for him, and for a while, she had been his only, precious little sister. Until all of his other precious, little sisters had followed.

Work had driven both of them to stay in Los Angeles at the same time, and Louis was more than grateful for that. While he had never purchased a property in the city, Lottie had invested in a flat at the Robertson Drive. It was fancy, and just big enough for her alone, but she let Louis stay over whenever they were both in the city.

Working as a hair and makeup stylist had Lottie come here often, but she really was all over the world, always in different countries for different fashion shows. She was high in demand and made a name for herself on the scene. Louis was incredibly proud of what his little sister had achieved, and at the same time, he felt like he had to protect her from the world outside. Especially the world in Hollywood.

“That’s none of your business.” She left for the ensuite bathroom, leaving the door open. “I can wear whatever pleases me.”

Of course she would say that. She was twenty-four. The days Louis had had a say in what she could wear or do were long over. “You meeting that bloke Tommy today?” Louis asked, staying on the bed.

“After work, yes.” She came back, golden earrings dangling from her ears. “Now get off my bed and make it up again.”

“What?” Louis rolled off the bed, picking up the pillow he had thrown. “I thought I could stay here tonight?”

“Aren’t you booked into a hotel for the next few weeks?” She turned to him with a frown.

“I am, but I thought we could spend some more time together while you’re here.” He pouted his lips, straightening out the covers on her bed.

“We can go to lunch tomorrow?” she offered, picking up her handbag and leaving the bedroom. “I’ll bring Tommy here tonight, and believe me, I don’t want you here for that.”

“Urg.” Louis made a noise like he was vomitting. “I don’t wanna know.”

“I’ll remind you when you’ll come brag to me about shagging Harry Styles.” She put on high heels and opened the door, holding it for Louis.

“I’m not gonna shag Harry Styles. I’d have to like him for that.” Louis put on his Vans and walked out, waiting for Lottie to lock the door.

“I mean, we could always bet on it.” She walked ahead on the stairs. “But I’m afraid you’d lose a fortune to me, and it’s enough for me to know I was right, so let’s not bet on anything but our honour.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “We’re on.”

“Great.” She turned when they were outside. A taxi was already waiting. “I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow.”

Louis leaned in to kiss her cheek, careful not to ruin her make-up. “Have fun, love.”

Lottie wiped the lipstick stain she had left on his cheek. “Love you.”

Waving after her, he shook his head with a fond smile, then he walked up the street to where he had parked his car. He felt a lot better after spending some time around Lottie, after she had put his complaints into perspective.

Of course she wasn’t right. Not entirely, at least. She had been right about him benefitting from this deal, though. Maybe he just had to make the best of it. Maybe he just had to take himself back a little. If he could do that, he could be convincing in this act and take away much more than just the media attention.

He didn’t have to like Harry Styles, but Louis was sure he could bring himself to tolerate the bloke.

+++

Harry looked at the small bottle in his hand, reading the label. He frowned a little at the description and pursed his lips.

“God, it’s not that hard, is it?” Barbara snagged it from his hand and sprayed some of its content over Harry’s hair.

Harry stared at her in the mirror, his hand still up in the air. “I hadn’t decided whether I wanna use it.”

“Well, I decided you wanna use it. And you’ll use it every day from now on. Your hair is terribly dry.” Barbara put the bottle away and ran her hands through Harry’s hair. “If you wanna grow it out, you’ll have to take care of it, love.”

“I’m taking care of it.” Harry made a mental note to buy a new line of hair products for his home, too. “It’s gotten quite long now, don’t you think?”

Barbara had been his personal stylist from day one. He had met her at a party five years ago when both of them had still been desperate to make a name for themselves. They had become friends straight away.

“It has,” she replied. “It’s been almost a year since you last cut it.” She ran a brush over his nose and cheeks and Harry closed his eyes. “You’d look good with long hair.”

“You think so?” Harry looked at himself in the mirror when she drew back to get something else. “I thought maybe I could grow it over my shoulders.”

“Depends on what’s your next role.” Barbara tucked some of her own Hair behind her ear, frowning a bit as she applied something to Harry’s brows. “But if you don’t have to cut it, we could try that.”

Harry nodded and let her go on with preparing him for the show. He was guest on a talk show tonight. Just a short appearance in preparation for promo season. He’d have a nice chat, more about his personal life than about work.

“Harry, are you ready?” Nick asked, popping up out of nowhere right next to Harry. “They’ll start filming your part in ten minutes.”

“He’s good to go,” Barbara said, brushing her hand through Harry’s hair once more. She made a thoughtful face and then dashed off.

Harry gazed after her for a moment, wondering what had hit her, then he turned back to Nick.

“All good?” Nick wanted to know.

“The usual.” Harry shrugged. “I’ve done this plenty of times before, right?”

“Every year of your career.” Nick nodded and leaned against the table Barbara had used to arrange her equipment. “You know, we can do this for the rest of eternity, but I thought, maybe you should get someone for real some time.”

Harry laughed. “Where does that come from?”

“It’s a little sad.” Nick shrugged and crossed his arms. “You’re a good guy, you know. I don’t wanna see you alone for the rest of your life. You deserve more than just pretend relationships.”

Smiling, Harry reached out to put his hand over Nick’s arm. “I’m okay with that. As long as the one I want is out of reach, I’m absolutely fine with this.”

“Maybe you’d want someone else, though?” Nick put his hand over Harry’s.

“What? You’re saying you’re available?” Harry grinned.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Oliver would not appreciate that.”

“You being mocked?” Harry felt his grin grow. “He totally would.”

“Probably.” Nick shook his head. “I should look out for someone else, too.”

“You never would.”

“I knew I had one.” Barbara came back with a scarf in her hand. “I’ve got a brilliant idea.”

“I’ll look like a flight attendant with that thing around my neck,” Harry pointed out.

“It’s not for your neck.” Barbara rolled her eyes. “It’s for your hair.”

“I like that.” Nick nodded in approvement.

Harry eyed the silky fabric for a moment, then he nodded his head, too. “Let’s give it a try.”

A few minutes later, Barbara had tied the scarf around Harry’s head in a way that it held back the curls. Harry made an appreciative gesture. “That looks good.”

“And you don’t have to touch it all the time, which is good, too.” Barbara smiled and patted Harry’s shoulder. “Now, off you go.”

Harry got up and kissed her cheek, then he followed Nick to the studio. Jimmy Kimmel sat at his desk already, being briefed by the producer. He nodded and then someone asked for everyone to get in their places. Someone counted down from three before music was played.

“My next guest has not been here in over a year, and I missed him, to be honest.” Jimmy pointed to the side where Harry was about to enter the studio in a second. “Please welcome Harry Styles.”

Accompanied by applause, Harry went over to him, greeted Jimmy with a hug and sat down in the comfortable armchair next to his desk.

“Thanks for having me,” Harry said as soon as the applause had died down.

They chatted for a while, about living in LA and working as an actor. Harry used to hate TV appearances like these. They were completely scripted and just for the benefit of spreading information. Which, in this case, was about his dating situation. He had got used to it over the years, though. It didn’t faze him anymore.

“You see, Louis and I’ve been to Malibu the other day--”

He got interrupted by Jimmy saying “Wow, wow, wow,” gesturing for Harry to stop, and the audience whistling and whooing. “Louis, as in Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry gave a coy smile, perfectly practised over the years. “I mean. Yeah. Louis Tomlinson.”

“Sorry, but now we wanna know more about that.” Jimmy leaned in closer. “I mean, we’ve all seen the pictures of you and Louis over lunch the other day. And we’ve seen the ones at a coffee shop.” He gave a meaningful look directed at the camera. “No name dropping.”

The Starbucks date had been fan-fucking-tastic. Louis had complained about it the whole time. Apparently, he didn’t like the tea. When Harry suggested he’d take a coffee instead, he had just pulled a face, saying coffee was only for very rough mornings. In the end, he had ended up with a Caramel Latte, and Harry had been glad when they had taken separate cars five minutes later.

“Yeah. We’re enjoying each other’s company.” That was the biggest lie in the universe, and for some reason, it made it feel so much more difficult than it had felt the previous years. “He’s great.”

“You got to know each other on the set of _Among Wolves_ , right?”

Harry nodded, looking down as he suppressed a smile, acting as if he was embarrassed. “Yeah. I mean, I had heard of him before, of course.”

“Of course,” Jimmy repeated, tone all purposeful. “Isn’t that beautiful? Young love.” The audience awed, and Jimmy laughed.

“We’ll take you with us next time, if you’re feeling lonely,” Harry offered, grinning cheekily when Jimmy threw his head back and laughed louder.

They wrapped it up within the next few minutes and Harry shook Jimmy’s hand before he walked off to the sides again. Nick was already waiting, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Well done,” he said, squeezing.

“Easy,” Harry said, not giving away that actually, this one hadn’t been that easy.

“That’s taken care of,” Nick agreed. “I’ll contact Stan. Next move is Louis’.”

As soon as the show was going to air in a few days, it’d be official. There was no turning back after that, and no getting out of any obligations. He’d have to go through with this until January and pretend to be in love with someone he couldn’t stand a bit.

Harry was dating Louis Tomlinson, and he had never hated anything more.

===

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) <3


	3. Black Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still drama, but that just fuels me. They finally get closer, even if they don't acknowledge it. 
> 
> Have fun reading. I hope you like it <3

 

Louis straightened out the jacket of his suit, standing in front of the mirror. He turned slightly, making sure everything fit the way it should. Lottie had been right, the dark blue suited him quite well. In combination with a black shirt and a golden-beige tie, he looked rather posh. 

“That was a good investment,” Lottie said as she ran a hand through his hair, giving it a last touch. “You look proper good.” 

“They’ll be here to pick me up any minute.” Louis turned to her. “Am I good to go?” 

Lottie winked at him. “You’re a stunner.” 

“Great, maybe I’ll find someone to replace my boyfriend.” Louis made for the door, putting on his shoes. 

“When you say it like that, it sounds all wrong.” Lottie followed him to the door. “I’ll make use of that big tub of yours in here while you’re gone.” 

“Don’t invite Tommy over,” Louis said, trying to sound stern. He opened the door in exactly the moment the telephone rang. 

Lottie completely ignored that. “Go ahead, I’ll take that.” 

He left the hotel suite and took the lift down to the lobby. It was strange going without a bodyguard to an event like that, but since Harry’s team had taken the part of driving them there, his security would take over too. 

He was greeted by a bulky man in a black suit when the lift doors slid open. “Mr Tomlinson.” He held out his hand for Louis. “I’m Paul, Mr Styles’ personal bodyguard. I’m here to pick you up.” 

“Thanks, Paul,” Louis said and shook his hand. 

Paul escorted him outside where a few paparazzi were waiting and immediately took pictures of him coming out of the hotel. Paul shielded him from the lights and guided Louis directly to the waiting car. Louis slid inside without any troubles and the door was closed behind him with a loud noise. After that, it was silent, and Louis’ breath was caught in his throat. 

Harry sat on the other side of the spacious limousine’s backseat. His hair was held back by a dark silk headband, and he wore a maroon suit. Nothing else, Louis noticed. He didn’t wear a shirt as it seemed. The jacket was buttoned up to cover half of his chest. Then Louis noticed black, transparent lace and he had to avert his eyes. 

“Hi,” Harry said. 

“Yeah. Hi.” Louis cleared his throat. “There we go again.” 

“With a new day comes a new chance, I guess.” Harry shrugged, adjusting his jacket. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “You live in a hotel?” 

Louis looked out of the tinted windows. “Most of the time.” 

“You don’t have a house in LA?” 

“No. I stay at my sister’s flat sometimes. Or Liam’s. He’s got a huge place, so he lets me stay over a lot.” Louis shrugged. “If that doesn’t work, I stay at a hotel.” 

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient to buy a house?” Harry sounded confused. 

“I could do that, but it wouldn’t make much sense. When I don’t have to be in this city, I avoid being here.” 

Harry audibly gasped. “Why?” 

“I don’t like it.” Louis turned to him, keeping his eyes on harry’s face. “I don’t feel at home here.” 

“So you stay in London?” Harry asked. 

“Whenever my schedule allows me to go back, yeah.” Louis couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his family home in Doncaster. “I’ve got a flat in London, but home is in Doncaster.” 

Harry smiled back. “My home’s not too far from that, actually.” 

“No idea what keeps you in LA, then.” 

“The weather is nice.” 

Louis frowned at that, but Harry just kept smiling, as if it was a legitimate reason. Maybe, for Harry, it was. “It is,” he agreed easily, “but it really doesn’t make it any more attractive to me.” 

“But your sister’s moved here?” Harry asked instead of prodding Louis’ dislike for LA any further. Louis was glad he was off that hook. He didn’t like explaining his living situation to others.

“She has flats all over the world, actually.” Louis looked out the window again, saw the lights of the theatre coming closer. “She’s a stylist, working at every fashion show you can name, and for some big names in the industry.” 

“Wow, that sounds like she’s quite successful,” Harry said. Louis liked the admiration in Harry’s tone. 

“She is, yeah,” he said, about to say more, when the car stopped. 

“Guess it’s time to go.” Harry sat up and his eyes met Louis’. “Ready to play?” 

Louis grinned, liking this much better than he had liked their previous outing. This already went much smoother. “Game on.” 

The door was opened and Harry got out first. Louis took another deep breath before he saw Harry holding out his hand for him. He met Harry’s eye once more before he took it. He slid out of the car in one smooth move and was immediately hit by flashing lights and loud noises. People yelled his name, then Harry’s, and it all blurred into one. 

Harry’s hand was warm in his. 

Glancing at him, Louis found that Harry was beaming, waving at the people standing at the sides. Louis did the same, realising that this was something he wanted for himself. Something real, of course, not just pretending like they did right now. Some day, Louis wanted to arrive to these kinds of events with a partner, holding their hand and being in this together. 

They had been instructed to just walk the carpet and not stop for reporters. At the entrance, they stopped in front of a wall with the sponsors’ brands on it, posing for the cameras. Harry put his arm around Louis’ waist, pulling him close, and Louis did the same, hand resting on Harry’s hip. The journalists were yelling their names for them to look over, or to give a short interview. Louis was sure there was only one thing they were interested in right now. 

As soon as they were inside the lobby, they let go of each other. Louis stepped back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “That didn’t go too bad.” 

“It should’ve convinced them,” Harry agreed. He pointed at the entrance to the big hall where the charity event would take place. “We don’t have to stick around each other all the time. Let’s meet at the table when the whole thing starts, okay?” 

Louis simply nodded, watching Harry stride off. He had quite long legs, and his bum didn’t look bad in those trousers. Louis wondered if he did some special workout solely to shape that bum. 

Frowning, Louis turned away and looked for the bar. He clearly needed a drink. 

+++

Harry breathed in deeply as soon as he was out of Louis’ space. He needed a bloody break from being around that man. Not just because Harry couldn’t stand him, but because his appearance did unspeakable things to Harry. 

Louis Tomlinson looked incredibly fit tonight. 

Coupled with that insecurity he had tried to play down in the car, Harry couldn’t have helped himself. Louis had seemed so nervous when they had arrived, Harry hadn’t had it in him to act cold, or let Louis figure out for himself how to make their relationship look believable. Harry could be petty, but he wasn’t that petty. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to dwell on those thoughts when a few familiar faces approached him and distracted him with light small talk. 

Harry found himself distracted, but still glanced back to the bar every now and then.

“Checking on your date?” Emma Wollaston asked, smirking. 

“Just making sure he's okay,” Harry said, turning his head back around. He had no idea why he was concerned. It wasn't like Louis was new to this kind of event. He knew how to live in here just as well as Harry did. 

“How sweet,” she gushed. 

Apparently, she was one of the few people who hadn't yet heard of Harry's dating pattern. He wouldn't go through the trouble of correcting her, though. It wasn't like he cared about what people thought anyway. 

When he got to the table, Louis was already sitting there, nursing a pint. Harry noticed the second glass and sat down next to Louis, raising a brow. 

“Is that for me?” 

“I saw you didn’t make it to the bar, and who knows when they’re gonna come serve our table.” Louis shrugged and turned to Harry. “You drink beer, don’t you?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I do.” He took the glass and toasted to Louis in a small gesture. “Cheers.” 

Louis returned the gesture. “No problem, mate.” 

Mate, Harry thought. Tonight, they were getting along much better than before. Maybe it was because they both pulled themselves together enough to go through with this. Whatever it was, Harry was grateful for it, because he liked this much better than the cold hostility they had held against each other before. It wasn’t like they were actually friendly now, but at least they were trying. 

“Do you know who we’re sitting with?” Harry asked, leaning over to check the name card next to his seat. 

“Luke Connolly, Niall Horan and,” Louis made a pause pointing to that card Harry had just read. “Who was it again?” 

“Zayn Malik,” Harry said. 

“Ah, yes. Zayn Malik.” Something in Louis’ tone was off, but Harry couldn’t tell what it was. “That’s the one.” 

Harry knew he had heard the name before. Trying to remember, he frowned, touching his lower lip. He knew he had met that bloke before, was pretty sure he had, but he couldn’t remember when and where. It’d be good to remember before he’d join them. 

“Emily Takeda’s summer party,” Louis said, watching Harry with a raised brow. 

“What?” Harry blinked at him. 

“That’s where you met Zayn. You’re trying to remember where you met him before, right?” Louis pointed to the card next to Harry’s seat. 

“He was there with Liam Payne,” Harry remembered. “Thanks.” 

“I remember him quite well.” Louis ran a hand through his hair. 

Harry didn’t know what to make of that. Did Louis mean it in a positive or negative way? Harry couldn’t read him at all. “You’re friends with Liam Payne, right?” 

“Yeah, we’re good friends.” Louis smiled, glancing at Harry briefly. “So any friend of Liam’s a friend of mine, too.” 

“That gives you something to talk about, at least.” A sudden idea let Harry sit up straighter. “You wanna change seats?” 

Louis frowned. “Why?” 

“So you can sit next to him,” Harry said. Conveniently, that would place Harry right next to Luke, which Harry wouldn’t mind a bit. 

“I’m good, thanks,” Louis denied the offer and let his gaze wander through the room. 

Harry rolled his eyes and sagged back into his chair. Of course Louis couldn’t know why Harry really had wanted to change seats, and there had been no malicious intent in his answer. Yet, Harry couldn’t help but dislike Louis a little more for it. 

“Here we go. We’ve got good company.” 

Turning around, Harry saw Niall approach with Luke and Zayn right behind him. Getting to share a table with Niall and Luke would make the night much more bearable than having to sit through it with strangers. Like this, Harry could ignore Louis’ presence most of the time and focus on catching up with Niall and Luke. 

Niall hugged him and immediately took the seat next to Harry, completely ignoring the seat assignments. Zayn sat down next to Louis and Luke took the chair that was left across from Harry; the furthest away from him. Not showing his disappointment in that, Harry politely greeted Zayn before he sat down again. 

“Now, this played out nicely,” Niall commented, pointing between Harry and Louis. 

Harry gave him a warning look, but Niall ignored it altogether. 

“I’m not sure it’s all that nice.” Louis shrugged and rested his elbows on the table to look at Niall. “But it definitely played out.” 

“I read about it the other day,” Zayn said. “And was wondering if it’s a PR thing.” 

“Harry dates people for PR every year.” Luke winked at Harry, and Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks. He looked way too good in his grey suit and with his hair styled in a quiff. “Always around this time.” 

Harry shrugged. “It’s convenient.” 

Louis snorted, but didn’t say anything. 

“Anyway.” Niall crossed his arms before his chest. “Why didn’t I get the first date this time around?” 

Harry almost choked on the swig of beer he had just taken. 

“What do you mean?” Louis frowned. 

Niall raised a brow at Harry before he looked at Louis again. “Harry usually brings his pretend boyfriends to my restaurant in LA for first dates. It’s my piece of the pie when Harry fake dates other stars.” 

Everyone at the table laughed at that, except for Harry. How was he supposed to explain to Louis that Harry couldn’t have taken him to Niall’s restaurant? He had felt like he didn’t want Louis anywhere near people who were important to Harry. He didn’t want Louis to get access to anything close to Harry’s heart. Louis simply didn’t deserve it. 

“Why wasn’t  _ I _ invited to The Crazy Mofo?” Louis asked, mock-insulted. 

Niall gasped. “You know my restaurant?” 

“Of course, mate,” Louis said, winking at him. Niall had the indecency to blush. 

“Who doesn’t?” Zayn asked. 

“Well.” Louis cleared his throat. “The people that go to that pretentious place in Malibu instead.” 

Harry wanted to strangle him. “Café Habana is not pretentious.” 

“It absolutely is.” Louis pointed at Niall. “His place and menu are absolutely genuine. No pretending it’s more than it actually is.” 

“He’s not wrong,” Luke said, filling his glass with water. “Café Habana’s not half the idyllic spot they make it out to be.” 

“Yes, thank you.” Louis held out his fist for a bump. “It’s right next to a bloody highway.” 

“You act like that’s Harry’s fault,” Zayn pointed out with an amused smirk. 

“It kinda is, now that I know I could’ve gone to The Crazy Mofo instead.” Louis glanced at Harry with an actual pout on his lips. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “We all get what we deserve.” 

“Anyway,” Niall butted in before Louis could reply. “You guys owe me.” 

“We owe you?” Harry repeated, turning to Niall and raising his brows. 

“Sure.” Niall tipped his finger against Harry’s chest. “You coming to my restaurant with your date is always good promo.” 

“We can still do that,” Harry offered. 

Niall shook his head. “That’s not the same, Haz. It won’t be an exclusive. I want something else instead.” 

“How do I have any obligations to you?” Louis wanted to know, sounding irritated. 

“It’s somewhere in the contract you signed when you agreed to play his boyfriend.” Niall cheekily smirked at Louis. “Tough luck, mate.” 

“Well, it’s certainly not the worst part of the thing I signed.” Louis muttered the words, but Harry heard them anyway. It wasn’t like Louis was wrong about that. 

“So, what do you want?” Harry asked, getting back to the topic at hand. 

Niall beamed at him. “I want you on my show.” 

“What?” Harry and Louis asked in unison. 

“That’s a great idea!” Luke was already laughing, which completely refuted what he had said. 

“That’s not gonna happen.” Louis sounded genuinely scared. 

“I’ll let my producer call up your teams.” Niall grinned, patting Harry’s shoulder. “That’ll be a good one. Imagine the press we’ll get from that.” 

“The press  _ you _ ’ll get from that,” Harry corrected him. 

“Details.” Niall shrugged. “I assure you Nick’s gonna love the idea.” 

Harry crossed his arms. “Of course he will. That’s not the point, though.” 

“What’s the point of you two pretending to date if you don’t do it publicly?” Niall asked. 

“Touché,” Zayn said. He looked like he was impressed by Niall. 

If he was honest, Harry was impressed himself. There was no way arguing that. Niall had a point, and there was nothing Louis or Harry could say against it. That was what Nick would say, too. Harry had no doubt that he would gladly agree to Niall’s plan. 

“I can’t even cook,” Louis complained. 

Niall gestured with his hand as if that didn’t matter at all. “I’ll teach you.” 

Louis didn’t look convinced, and for a moment Harry felt pity for him. Then again, they had both known what they were signing up for and that they had a film to promote, so going onto shows together and act like a couple wasn’t something unexpected. Louis didn’t have any reasons to complain. 

“Liam told me about your pancakes,” Zayn said to Louis, looking bemused. 

Louis groaned. “Only good things, I hope.”

“He said he never knew what burnt pancakes tasted like, but found out when he met you.” 

“That was one time!” Louis threw his hands in the air, and his brows drew together. “And why the hell are you two talking about  _ me _ anyway?” 

“Liam talks about you a lot.” Zayn shrugged. 

Harry glanced at Louis, checking his expression. He looked fond, and a little irritated. So maybe Harry’s suspicion that Louis and Liam had something more than friendship going on wasn’t that far-fetched after all. The way Zayn talked about it definitely made it look like that even more. 

Louis snorted. “And here I thought you two were too busy with  _ other things  _ to talk when you meet.” 

Zayn blushed and quickly turned to Luke. “So, how’s Chris? Why couldn’t he make it tonight?” 

Harry was still trying to figure out if Louis had implied that Zayn and Liam were actually the ones who had more going on than being friends, when Luke’s answer shut down every other thought on his mind. “I don’t know, actually. We-- We’re not together anymore.” 

Everything came to a halt and Harry almost forgot to breathe.  _ Finally _ . He had waited for that to happen for literal years. Of course he had never wished ill on Chris and Luke’s relationship, but somewhere deep inside, Harry had hoped Luke would realise one day that Chris wasn’t the right one for him. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Zayn looked genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t know.” 

“It’s fine,” Luke assured him, and his smile didn’t look plastered on, at all. He  _ did  _ look fine. 

Suddenly, Harry’s heart was beating high up in his chest. He had to snatch Luke now, right now, before someone else did it. Harry couldn’t possibly watch on how someone else would win Luke over. Not again. This was Harry’s chance, Harry’s time. 

“You seemed good together,” Louis said, stopping the white noise in Harry’s ears. 

“Well.” Luke cleared his throat and shrugged lightly. He glanced between Harry and Louis. “It was real.”

Harry’s stomach dropped. It was real. Contrary to what Harry and Louis did -- pretending to date, deceiving the world just for some more articles being written about them. There was no way Harry could sweep Luke away right now, could make sure they wouldn’t miss their chance again. Right now, Harry was publicly bound to Louis. There was no way he’d date Luke under those circumstances, in secret and away from the public eye. That’s not what he had waited for to happen for so long. 

Harry wanted to reach out, grab Luke, and make sure he understood. Doing nothing, just sitting there and pretending he didn’t care, tore him up inside. And yet, that was all he could do right now. 

“Come on, mate,” Niall said and got up from his chair. “That begs for a drink. “ 

Luke laughed, but got up, too. “I could definitely use a drink.” 

“I’ll get something, too.” Zayn said and Harry looked at him. “How about you guys?” 

“I’m good,” Harry said, pointing at his beer. He didn’t feel like drinking it right now. He felt like something much stronger, but didn’t think it’d be a good idea. Instead, he watched as Zayn threw an arm around Luke’s shoulders when they walked off and Niall gestured wildly while he talked. 

“So that’s what it’s like.” 

Harry turned his face to Louis, seeing him run a finger along the rim of his glass and smirk at Harry. Frowning, Harry kept his eyes on him. “What?” 

“You’ve got a crush on Luke,” Louis said easily -- as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Harry’s heart followed his stomach, dropping somewhere around his knees. 

“Sorry mate, but you’re not a good actor here.” Louis shrugged and rested his elbows on the table. “You were completely obvious.” 

“That’s none of your business, Tomlinson,” Harry said, trying to sound intimidating, but he knew the crack in his voice gave him away. 

“Well, I think it is.” Louis whistled quietly and nodded like he understood everything. Yet, he didn’t understand a single  thing. “It’s my reputation on the line here.” 

“Your reputation?” Harry snorted, but didn’t feel amused at all. “What’s this got to do with your reputation?” 

“Well, if word gets out about you meeting and shagging someone else, that’ll definitely make me look like an idiot.” Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest. “In case you forgot, for the public, we’re a couple.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Isn't that what you wanted? Your private life being spread out in all the papers?”

“What gave you that impression?” Louis raised his brows. “I think it's you who goes the extra mile of fake dating every year to make sure you're in the papers.” 

“Well, I didn't have an excessively public coming out lately,” Harry pointed out. “Isn't dating me part of that too?” 

“My coming out had nothing to do with my career,” Louis said, and Harry could tell he had hit a nerve there. 

“I would beg to differ.” Harry laced his fingers and watched Louis over his hands as he placed his elbows on the table. “You used your coming out as an image change. A clear career move.” 

Louis’ expression turned bitter and he lowered his voice. “Careful, Styles, or I may slip up when Luke comes back.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Harry almost hissed it. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.” Louis held Harry’s gaze, his fierce, blue eyes staring right into Harry’s. There was nothing gentle, nothing warm in them. And yet, Harry could see that spark of fear. 

In that moment he knew; Louis wouldn’t, but a dog that was pushed in the corner was ready to bite. Louis was scared. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Harry simply repeated and broke their eye contact, searching the room with his gaze instead. His heart beat up in his throat, afraid that he was wrong, and that Louis would indeed bolt and fuck this up for Harry. 

“You really are such an arrogant prick,” Louis said, his voice still lowered. “You think you’re invincible.” 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Harry used Louis’ words from before. He didn’t even give Louis the gratification of looking at him. Instead, he plastered on a smile when Niall, Luke and Zayn came back. 

“The show starts in a minute,” Niall said while he was sitting down. “They’ll bring our drinks to the table.” 

“We ordered some for you, too.” Harry noticed that Luke spoke to him, not to Louis. “I hope that’s okay.” 

“That’s fine.” Harry smiled at him, and his heart beat a little faster when Luke smiled back. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Louis muttered next to him. He didn’t sound fine at all. 

Harry ignored it. 

+++

Louis wasn’t surprised to find Harry lived in a mansion in Beverly Hills. 

The Californian sun was up high in the sky as he entered through the gate, driving his car up a slope to the entrance. Louis spotted four cars parked there, so he parked his own right next to them. It looked like Harry liked oldtimers; Louis’ sports car was standing out. 

After the charity event the other night, Louis wasn’t looking forward to this at all. Harry had somehow managed to find something to hold above Louis’ head. When Louis had found something to intimidate Harry with, he had somehow turned it into finding something to hold against Louis. 

The problem was that Harry hadn’t been wrong. Stan had insisted on connecting Louis’ coming out to an image change. As much as Louis had protested, he couldn’t have fought it. He wasn’t happy with how things had gone. If Louis had had more say in it, he’d have kept his coming out completely separate from his career. 

Sighing, he stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before he rang the doorbell. It took a few moments, but then the door opened to reveal Harry, clad in shorts -- short shorts -- and a Rolling Stones band t-shirt. His hair was loose, framing his face in wild curls. He would’ve looked relaxed, if it hadn’t been for the frown between his brows that formed when he saw Louis. 

“Louis,” he said coldly. “Come in.” 

Louis decided that it was probably better to stay quiet. He followed Harry inside and took in the spacious foyer of the house. Through an archway, Louis could see a garden and a swimming pool at the back of the house. Broad stairs led to the second floor that had a balcony overlooking the foyer. 

“I didn’t know you were expecting someone,” Louis heard someone say and saw Luke when they entered the kitchen and dining area. He sat at the huge table, dressed casually and a glass in one hand. On the cooker, something delicious-smelling was cooking. 

“I didn’t know you had a guest,” Louis said and went over to shake Luke’s hand. 

“Luke’s house is just around the corner.” Harry went to stir whatever was in the pot.

“So I thought I’d drop by.” Luke shrugged. 

Glancing between them -- Harry busy cooking and Luke checking his mobile -- Louis wondered what exactly he had interrupted. 

“What brings you here, Louis?” Luke asked, and Louis focused back on him. “Harry hasn’t said anything about you coming today.” 

“We’re supposed to take photos for our social media accounts,” Harry replied for him. He came back over and sat down next to Luke. 

Louis remained standing, not feeling comfortable to sit with them as it was. “It’ll only take a few minutes.” 

“You won’t join us for dinner?” Luke asked.

Louis didn’t know who looked more shocked -- him or Harry. He definitely didn’t want to join them for dinner, and he was sure Harry didn’t want Louis in his house any second longer than necessary. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your---”  _ Date _ , Louis thought and swallowed thickly. He helplessly gestured with his hand, not sure how to finish that sentence. Were those two on a date right now? How had he got into this awkward situation? How dare Harry bring him into an awkward situation like this? 

“You’re not,” Luke assured him. “Just a friendly dinner. He should stay, right?” He turned to Harry. 

Looking as uncomfortable as Louis felt, Harry nodded stiffly. He didn’t meet Louis’ eye when he glanced over. “Sure. Please stay.” 

Now, it’d make Louis look like a prick to refuse. “Lovely,” he said, forcing a smile.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” Harry said and got up, moving back into the kitchen. 

Louis glanced after him while he sat down across from Luke, still smiling. For a while, they sat in awkward silence, and all Louis could think about was Harry seriously making moves on Luke when he was meant to be taken in the public eye. 

“So, Harry said you guys would start promo soon?” Luke asked, breaking the silence. 

Louis nodded. “We’ll start with Europe in a few weeks.” He thought about the schedule Stan had sent him a few days ago. They’d be all over the world in October before returning for a last streak of promo here in November. London, Paris, Berlin, Stockholm, Rome -- they’d go to every important city in Europe for interviews, then they’d be off to Australia and Asia. 

“Promotion tours can be tiring,” Luke said, moving his glass around. 

Especially if you had to do them with people you didn’t like. “They can be,” Louis decided to reply, not giving away what he was thinking. 

Harry came back and placed a glass in front of Louis. He had brought plates and cutlery, and Louis thought of his mother, and how she wouldn’t approve of him just sitting by. 

“Shall I help you?” he offered as he got up from his chair. 

Harry looked a little surprised and shook his head. “It’s fine. You two just keep talking. I’ll take care of the food.” 

Louis sat down again and gazed after Harry as he went back to the kitchen area. 

“I didn’t know he could cook,” Luke said, following Louis’ gaze. “I mean, at least I never saw him cooking before.”

Louis shrugged. He didn’t know much about Harry Styles if he was honest. They hadn’t talked a lot so far, and Louis hadn’t been sad about that. Then again, cooking didn’t fit Harry Styles. In his experience, people who could cook were great people; easy to get along with and true caretakers. Harry didn’t seem like he wanted to take care of people. 

Or did he? 

Louis frowned. “Maybe he can’t. We haven’t tried it yet, have we?” 

“I can hear you, you know,” Harry said from the kitchen without looking over. 

“It’s a valid concern, Styles.” Louis couldn’t keep the grin from his face. 

“It smells amazing, though,” Luke pointed out. 

Harry filled a bowl with whatever he had in that pot and came back over to the table to place it in front of them. Louis couldn’t help but lean in to inspect the pasta Harry had cooked. He spotted all kinds of vegetables and smelled garlic and basil which made his mouth water. Harry was just sitting down when a mobile started ringing. 

“That’s mine. Sorry.” Luke retrieved the device from his pocket and answered the phone with a small, “Hi.” 

Louis watched him pull a face at whatever the person on the other end of the line said. Luke sighed and nodded his head before he said: “Yeah, of course. No, it’s no problem.” 

It was, Louis figured, because Luke’s expression said something entirely different. 

“I’m sorry, guys,” he said as he ended the call. “I’m afraid I have to leave.” 

“What?” Harry said, looking surprised.

“They moved one of my filming dates, and I gotta catch a flight to New York in three hours.” Luke got up and hugged Harry. “Can we have dinner when I’m back?” 

“Of course,” Harry promised, voice thick with something Louis couldn’t read. “Any time.” 

Luke patted Harry’s back and Louis felt like he was intruding on something intimate, so he glanced away. 

“See you again, Louis,” Luke said and held out his hand. 

Louis shook it and got up from his chair, not sure if he should walk him to the door with Harry. He decided to stay back and let them have a moment alone. Whatever had gone on before Louis had shown up, probably needed them a bit of time to settle. 

Harry came back after a few minutes, hands in the pockets of his shorts and a frown etched between his brows. He stopped in the doorframe to the kitchen area and stared at Louis. 

“I should go,” Louis said without thinking about it. The way Harry looked at him was too intense, too upset for Louis to want to be around him now. 

For a moment, Harry was quiet and didn’t move. “We gotta take those pictures,” he said then and came back over to the table. “It’d be a waste to throw away the food. We can just as well have dinner together.” 

Louis tried to find anything in Harry’s expression that would give away how he really felt, but he couldn’t tell. He just didn’t know Harry well enough to read him, so he sat back down like Harry did. 

In silence, they filled their plates and Louis glanced up at Harry before he started eating. After taking the first bite, he blinked and glanced up again. 

Harry glanced back. 

“This is actually quite good,” Louis said. 

“I don’t know why you sound so surprised.” Harry tore off some of the bread. 

Louis shrugged. “You just don't strike me as the kind of person who cooks.” 

“I'm not like you, I guess.” 

“Who says I don't cook?” Louis asked, frowning.  

Harry shook his head. “You don't.” 

For a moment, Louis pondered arguing, just for the sake of it.  “You just remembered that pancake story.” 

“That just proved what I had already figured,” Harry said and emptied his glass. “You probably burn eggs.” 

“Wow, your opinion of me is even lower than I thought.” Louis laughed dryly. It wasn't like he was actually amused.  

“You have no idea,” Harry muttered. 

Louis put down his fork. “You're one to talk.” 

“What?” Harry raised his brows. “I’ve never burnt an egg in my life.” 

“Neither have I,” Louis pointed out, getting impatient. 

“But pancakes.” Harry grinned and finished his pasta, sitting back in his chair. 

“Let’s be happy I’m not a chef, then,” Louis simply said, not giving Harry the satisfaction of falling for his provocation. 

Harry hummed. Louis didn’t know how he felt about Harry watching him eat. “I could be.” 

Louis snorted. “You’re decent, Styles, but you couldn’t be a chef.” 

“Say that again after you’ve tasted my fajitas,” Harry said, pointing at Louis. 

“Are you asking me on a date?” Louis smirked when he glanced up at Harry. It froze on his face when he realised what he was doing; what  _ they _ were doing. They were flirting. 

Harry seemed to realise it himself. He got up and carried his empty plate to the kitchen area. His voice didn’t give anything away, though, when he talked. “Do I even have to ask you on a date when we’re already a couple?” 

For a moment, Louis thought about dropping it, but that wasn’t his style. He always had the last word. “Since we’re not really dating, so this is all just hypothetical, I would like to let you know that I’m not easily maintained with some pasta and ice tea every other night. I expect some class, Styles.” 

“I didn’t do this for you, though,” Harry reminded him as he came back. 

“Let me give you an advice.” Louis leaned in, arms on the table. “This isn’t how you’d have won Luke Connolly’s heart.” 

Harry’s expression turned a little darker. “Thank God I’ve got an expert around.” 

“Well, if you ruin my reputation, I’d like it to at least be worth it.” 

“Again,” Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m not gonna ruin your reputation.” 

“I’ll remind you when you do,” Louis muttered. “He wasn’t here today for no reason, was he?” 

Harry averted his gaze. “We talked.” 

“About what?” Louis wanted to know.

“That doesn’t concern you.” Harry took out his mobile and pointed at the spacious living room behind Louis. “Let’s get it over with those pictures, so you can leave again.” 

“Aren’t you lovely?” Louis asked, but got up anyway. “The perfect host.”

Harry went ahead. “Almost as lovely as you.” 

They sat down on the sofa, and Louis felt a burn in his chest, urging him on to keep poking Harry for answers. He just had to know what was going on. “Seriously, though. Don’t you think I should know what’s going on with you and Luke?” 

“Absolutely not,” Harry said, throwing some cushions off the sofa. 

“Actually.” Louis swallowed, turning a little to look at Harry. “I’m not comfortable doing this, knowing you’ve got a boyfriend.” 

For a moment, Harry was quiet, and Louis could see that he was searching for a reply, something witty or mean. Then he sighed, and shook his head, his body relaxing against the backrest of the sofa. “Luke’s not my boyfriend. We just talked about the possibility.” 

Louis frowned. “The possibility?” 

“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t be comfortable putting on this act with you while I’m with him, so I kinda asked him to wait.” Harry didn’t meet Louis’ eye. 

Suddenly, Louis understood what this was about, and he had to hold back a gasp. “You’ve been fake dating these people because you were in love with him all along.” 

Harry squirmed, literally squirmed, and looked at the floor, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “My agent said it’d be better for publicity to date people.” 

Louis cleared his throat. “Is Luke, like-- you know?” 

“He just broke up with Chris.” Harry shrugged. “Anyway. We agreed to get back to this in January when our contract is over.” 

“Sounds reasonable,” Louis agreed. 

“Is there any more you would like to know about my private matters or is that it?” Harry asked after a moment and unlocked his mobile. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I asked you to spill your guts to me.” 

“Let’s just take the pictures and be done with it.” Harry threw an arm around Louis and held up his mobile, their faces appearing on the display. His body was lean against Louis’, warm and solid and Louis could smell traces of shower gel and shampoo, some washing powder and something else. Something that he couldn’t place, that was probably just Harry himself. 

“You look like you’re off to kill someone,” Louis commented when he spotted Harry’s expression.

“I don’t.” Harry poked Louis’ arm and his brows were knitting together even further. 

“I know most people find the moody act attractive,” Louis said and turned his face to Harry, suddenly becoming aware of how close not just their bodies but also their faces were. “It doesn’t suit you.” 

“You have no idea what suits me,” Harry replied and Louis heard the shutter, knew Harry had just taken a picture, so he leaned in to grace his lips over Harry’s cheek. For a second, he imagined that Harry shivered slightly before he took another picture. Harry was still again, completely still, and Louis blinked, wondering if it had actually been him who had shivered. 

“Now me,” Louis said and pulled back, his heart suddenly beating a little faster. He had to pull himself together. It was just Harry Styles -- sure, he was attractive, but Louis didn’t even like him. His body was just reacting to being this close to someone. Something Louis hadn’t been in a long while.

If he was honest, he hadn’t ever been close like this to a man. Being in the closet hadn’t made it easy to meet or hook up with men; not if Louis had wanted to maintain a clean image for his career. 

“Let’s make this look a bit more natural,” he said and pushed Harry to lie down on the sofa.

Harry seemed a little surprised, but followed suit. “What’s natural to you?” 

“Shut up and lie down.” Louis squeezed himself next to Harry, and tugged at his wrist to pull his arm around Louis’ waist. Then, he lifted up his phone and took a picture of himself snuggled against Harry’s chest. Some of Harry’s curls were visible, and the rings on his hand that rested on Louis’ waist gave away who it was that held Louis. 

“Get me in the frame,” Harry said quietly, squeezing Louis’ waist. His fingers were slender and long, a nice fit around Louis’ curves. 

Louis stretched out his arm until Harry’s face came onto the display and he pressed the button when Harry closed his eyes and kissed the top of Louis’ head, nose buried in Louis’ hair. They stayed like that for a moment and Louis took another picture, staring straight into the camera, surprised by himself and how relaxed he looked. 

“That’s it?” he asked and detached himself from Harry, pulling back and sitting up to bring some space between them.

Harry’s hand slid from his waist and he nodded. “Guess that should be enough. We both post them at some point today, and it’s done.” 

“Brilliant,” Louis commented and stood up from the sofa. “Guess I’ll be leaving, then.” 

Harry didn’t look at him when he got up from the sofa and followed Louis out of the living room. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Thanks for dinner,” Louis remembered to say -- because, his mum had raise him to always be polite. Even with Harry Styles. 

“No worries.” Harry buried his hands in his pockets, looking at Louis strangely. “Guess I’ll see you at the airport then?” 

“Next week,” Louis confirmed, nodding briefly. 

They didn’t say anything more before Louis left the house. One of the cars was gone, and he figured it had been Luke’s. Which apparently meant that Luke and Harry had at least the same taste in cars. 

Good for them, Louis decided. Just because his body betrayed him by feeling oddly, unreasonably attracted to Harry Styles’ body didn’t mean he had any other interest in him. Actually, Louis had no interest in him at all. 

As soon as their contract was over, he’d find himself a nice bloke and he’d finally test out all those things he couldn’t have done in the past five years. He’d finally get what he had wanted for so long, and Harry Styles would just be another stepping stone to get there. 

Starting his car, Louis drove away from the mansion, and ignored the ghost touch he still felt on his waist. It was just physical; his body longing for something he couldn’t have. 

+++

Harry woke up when his mobile rang. He blinked open his eyes and yawned, realising he had fallen asleep while watching TV. Fumbling his mobile from the table, he answered it. 

“‘Lo?” 

“Are you seriously sleeping during the day?” Barbara asked. 

“I’m off. I can do whatever I want.” Harry rolled onto his back and stretched a little, but kept his eyes closed. 

“I’m actually calling because I wanted to let you know they delivered the skin care products you wanted to test.” She rushed the words out, which told Harry that there was something else she was really calling him for. 

“But?” he asked. 

“Bloody hell, Hazza,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “That picture looks intimate.” 

“What picture?” Harry frowned, trying to remember if he had sent her any pictures lately. 

“Hello? Are you awake yet?”  Barbara sighed as if she was talking to a particularly dense person. Harry couldn’t bring himself to feel offended. “The one Louis Tomlinson just posted.”

“Oh,” he said and opened his eyes. “I haven’t seen it.” 

“Well, I mean, you were there when it was taken, that should be enough,” she pointed out. “Aren’t you two cute?” 

Now, he did feel offended. “Certainly not. We can’t stand each other.” 

“In that case, kudos to you two as actors. It looks pretty real.” Harry knew she was shrugging, even if he couldn’t see it. 

“I’m not remotely interested in Louis Tomlinson.” Harry wasn’t sure why he said it; there was no reason to. He remembered how nicely Louis had fit against him, his weight on top of Harry. For a moment, it had confused him, but then he had thought of Luke, and had remembered that while Louis was attractive, it didn’t compare to how Harry felt about Luke. 

Barbara hummed. “Have you met him lately?” 

He didn’t have to ask to know she was talking about Luke. Since she had been with Harry from the very beginning, she was one of the few people in his life he had told about his feelings for Luke. 

“I actually made progress on that front,” he said, inhaling deeply. “He came over to talk lately, and I kinda-- I confessed?” 

“Back to high school.” Barbara’s tone was dry. “You don’t confess at your age, Harry.” 

“Shut up.” He laughed, knowing she was only making fun of him because she loved him. “I’ve been waiting for that to happen for so long.” 

“So what did he say?” 

“He would like to try,” Harry said, still not believing his luck. “He just split from Chris, so he’d like to take some time to figure things out, but he didn’t turn me down.” 

“What about Louis?” she asked. 

“I told Luke I’m not comfortable with starting something while--” He stopped, sitting up while he sorted through his thoughts. “Even if the relationship with Louis isn’t real, I wouldn’t feel comfortable, you know?” 

Barbara hummed again. “Yeah, I get it. Did Luke?” 

“Yeah. He was great.” Harry took a deep breath. “He was absolutely great about it. We said we’ll try once my contract is over in January.” 

“That’s good news,” Barbara said, voice gentle. Then she laughed suddenly. “Just don’t fall in love with Louis in between.” 

Harry snorted. “Definitely not. No worries.” 

“All right, love. I gotta go.” She still laughed, too, wishing him a good night before she hung up. 

Harry lay back down on the sofa and opened instagram on his mobile. He had followed Louis a few weeks ago, and Louis had followed him straight back. Harry didn’t spend much time on the app, rarely posted pictures, but he had found that Louis was rather active. 

Louis’ picture was the first that showed up on his feed, and for a moment, Harry had to hold his breath. Louis looked soft, incredibly soft. He was snuggled against Harry, lids hooded and expression sleepy. Harry’s fingers were curled around Louis’ waist, the sunlight reflecting from the gold and the stones. He himself looked completely content, as if he was actually enjoying holding Louis. 

Which he hadn’t. 

Harry frowned and double-tapped the picture before he read the caption.  _ Lazy _ , it simply read. Harry opened the comment section and read a few of the gushing replies Louis had received, before he added his own. 

_ Love being lazy with you. _

He’d post his picture some other day. For today, Louis’ picture was probably gaining enough attention. He shivered slightly, feeling strange in his own skin, just thinking about what he had written beneath that picture. 

It was such a bold lie. 

All those years before, it had never bothered Harry much to throw out such lies. It was probably because of Luke that this time, it felt so much worse than it had ever before. Suddenly, deceiving the world seemed like a huge deal, like something he didn’t want to do anymore. 

Still looking at the picture, Harry wondered if he’d ever have something like that for real. Not just to pretend, and to make people believe. Something that was just for him; something  _ solid _ . 

Maybe after this, when January came around, Harry would have a chance at that, too. 

===

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Come visit me on
> 
> [Tumblr](http://greenfeelings.tumblr.com) <3


	4. Dolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Monday!!! :) 
> 
> Enjoy the read, my lovelies <3

 

Harry yawned, rubbing his eye with one finger. He frowned when the car stopped and gazed out the window, seeing they were in front of a villa in West Hollywood. 

Louis stepped out, looking just as tired as Harry had last time he had looked in the mirror. He wore jogging bottoms and an oversized jumper, face hidden by the hood.  

Harry shifted in his seat when Louis slid into the car, mumbling “morning.”

“Morning,” Harry said, pushing some curls out of his face. They weren't completely dry yet. 

Louis snuggled into himself and Harry looked away when the car started moving again. 

“You bought a house now?” he asked. 

“It's Liam's,” Louis replied. “He let me stay over for the week because I couldn't go back to London.” 

Harry frowned. “Why not?” 

“Because Stan insisted I'd go together with you. To keep up the pretence, and all.” Louis shrugged. He still hadn't looked at Harry even once. 

“Should I be worried about my reputation now?” Harry asked, raising a brow. 

“He's my best friend,” Louis said, as if that was more than obvious. 

“Just saying,” Harry mumbled and turned away again, looking out of the window. “It could be taken the wrong way.” 

Louis didn’t reply, and Harry didn’t look at him again. Instead, they spent the rest of the drive in silence. Harry couldn’t say he minded it. He had a feeling that a tired Louis was even more snappy than his usual self. 

When they arrived at LAX, Paul turned around to them from the passenger seat. “Harry, you go out first, and wait for Louis. We’ll get you in together. Make sure the paps get some good shots. Okay?” 

Harry nodded, and when he glanced at Louis, he saw him nodding too. 

A moment later, the door on Harry’s side was opened. He slid out of the car, ignoring the paparazzi calling his name and turned just in the right moment to see Louis get out of the car. Harry hadn’t even made a move when Louis slid an arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. Even though Louis was a little smaller than Harry, it felt like Louis was shielding him from the cameras. 

Holding on to each other, they walked into the airport, bodyguards at their side and their luggage being carried for them. Inside, Louis let go of Harry immediately, his hands disappearing into the pockets of his jogging bottoms. Harry ignored the cold feeling in his chest. Louis had been comfortably warm against him. 

He spotted Barbara after they reached the secured gate. She greeted him with open arms and Harry sank into the hug, grateful for the familiarity. That was the good thing about them being friends. He always had someone close with him when he travelled. 

“Hi babes,” she said, immediately running her fingers into his hair. “Good to go?” 

Harry waited for her to sort out his hair the way she liked. “I can’t wait for London. Gonna get a few days off to visit the family.” 

“London is after Berlin?” she took out her mobile, probably to check the schedule again. 

“I think, yeah.” 

“For my part, I can’t wait to go shopping in Rome and Paris,” Barbara said, taking her handbag off her shoulder to put away the mobile phone. 

“I prefer Barcelona.” Harry pursed his lips. “Or Tokyo.” 

Barbara poked his side. “We were talking European cities. Anyway,” she added, looking over Harry’s shoulder. “How are things going with your fake boyfriend?” 

Harry turned to find Louis standing by the windows. He was adjusting a rucksack on his back, and a ginger boy had joined him. They were talking quietly, looking familiar with each other. 

“It’s okay, I guess. We’re both holding up our ends of the contract.” 

“So you still don’t get along?” Barbara asked. 

Harry turned back to her. “Not really. He irritates me.” 

“I think he seems quite nice.” There was a gleam in her eye that Harry didn’t like. Before he could say anything, though, she was off in Louis’ direction. 

Harry followed reluctantly. 

“Hi. Good morning!” Barbara said cheerfully, holding out her hand. “I’m Barbara, Harry’s stylist.” 

To Harry’s surprise, Louis turned fully to her and took her hand between both of his. His expression was open and friendly. “Hi. Nice to meet you, Barbara. I’m Louis. That’s my assistant, Oli,” he introduced the ginger friend. 

Oli shook Barbara’s hand too, before he extended his for Harry. His hand was a little sweaty and the grip loose when Harry took it. 

“You don’t bring a stylist with you?” Barbara asked, concern in her voice. 

Louis shrugged. “There are always some around, aren’t there?” 

Barbara hummed. “Well, you know, if you need anything, you can always ask me.” 

“That’s nice. Thank you.” Louis touched her elbow. “I probably will.” 

“And,” Barbara went on, a grin appearing on her face, “I’m sure you could get me in touch with your sister, right?” 

Louis laughed, genuinely laughed. His eyes were reduced to little slits and he threw his head back a little, his upper lip disappearing completely from how much his mouth stretched with the grin. Harry frowned and looked at Barbara again. 

“I’m pretty sure I can arrange that,” Louis replied, still giggling. “I didn’t know she was that famous in her field.” 

“Well, to me, she’s the famous Tomlinson, to be honest.” Barbara winked at him. 

Harry frowned deeper. Barbara was getting along with Louis, when she was supposed to despise him together with Harry. The audacity! 

Louis laughed again, hands on the shoulder straps of his rucksack. “I have a feeling she’d love to meet you.” 

“We’re ready to go.” Paul came up next to Harry, resting his hand on Harry’s back. “Everyone else’s boarded.” 

Harry went ahead, Paul and Barbara close behind him. Someone from the airport staff checked Harry’s ticket and passport again, then he was let into the aircraft. Away from prying eyes, they were led straight to first class where each of them were assigned their own small cabin-like seats. 

When Harry had settled in and saw Barbara was just making herself comfortable in the one in front of his, Louis claimed the seat next to Harry’s. Quietly, Harry watched him change the seat into a bed. 

“I think you have to be seated for the take off,” Harry said while Louis lay down. 

He shrugged, pulling the blanket over himself. “I’d like to see them wake me up for that.” 

“It’s for your own safety,” Harry argued. 

“This is my  _ No Parking _ sign, Styles.” Louis turned his back to Harry. “It doesn’t count for me, you know.” 

Harry frowned, not sure what Louis was even on about, but decided to drop the topic. The flight attendant walked through the aisle, reminding them to fasten their seat belts. He stopped in front of Louis’ cabin and hesitated for a moment, then he walked on. 

Shaking his head, Harry took out his book. He hoped Louis would just sleep through the whole flight. It’d make things easier for all of them. 

+++

Rome was cold. Not cold in the way London was cold during this time of year, but way colder than Los Angeles. The sky was grey and Louis had lost all sense of time, but it was still daytime. 

In separate cars, they were brought to the hotel they were staying at for the next few days before going to Barcelona. Louis hoped they'd get to sleep for a bit, take a proper rest. He had slept for the first few hours on the plane. Afterwards, he had spent the time watching movies and making fun of Harry for reading all the time. 

Even on a plane he kept up his pretentious hipster image. It was laughable. 

Oli took care of Louis' luggage when they arrived at the hotel. He was led up to the suite, and found Harry unlocking the one next to his. 

“Barbara will be in room 203,” Paul said. “We'll have a meeting before dinner to sort out your schedule for tomorrow.” 

Louis turned to Oli. “When is dinner?”

“Um…” He shrugged. 

“Seven,” Paul replied for him. “We’ll meet in Harry's suite at six.” 

Louis nodded and took his suitcase. “Thanks.” 

As soon as the door was shut behind him, he sighed and dropped all his luggage. He took in the room for a moment; the spacious sitting area, the balcony doors, an archway into the bedroom. The sofa looked plush, and the cushions comfortable.

Louis opted for the bed, though, kicking off his shoes. He didn't bother taking off his clothes, snuggling into the sheets, the duvet heavy on his body. It only took a couple of minutes and he was out like a light. 

When he woke up again, the sun was setting, and he was hot beneath the duvet. He checked his watch, finding he had another hour before the meeting. Slowly, Louis dragged himself out of bed and went for the en suite bathroom to take a long shower. 

Ten minutes early, he knocked at Harry's door. It took a moment before it opened, revealing Harry in nothing but a towel around his hips, hair dripping wet. 

Louis had to force himself to look away from Harry's abs, and to focus on his face. 

“You're early,” Harry said, voice a little raspy.  

“I got bored,” Louis replied, pushing part him. The room looked identical to his own. “Didn't know you're a last minute kind of guy.” 

Harry stayed at the door, closing it slowly. “That's why there's a telly in the room, you know. To kill boredom.”

“Lovely idea.” Louis dropped down on the sofa and grabbed the remote, turning on Harry's TV. “You’d probably want to get dressed before the rest of the crew shows up.” 

Harry didn't reply, and for a moment, Louis kept watching the Italian programme on TV, wondering what the woman was on about. Then, he dared glancing over his shoulder, seeing Harry still being shirtless, but already buttoning up his jeans. They were fitting nicely around his legs, a slim fit, and Louis once again pitied that Harry was so bloody attractive. Louis couldn't help but react to it, feel drawn to him. The broad shoulders, his long legs, his slim but muscled body -- he was incredibly fit. Louis wondered if Harry was a good lover, what those lips and hands could do, how experienced he was and--- 

Louis shook his head. Those were thoughts he shouldn't allow himself to have. Harry Styles was not an option. Louis didn't even like him, and he certainly wouldn't sleep with a man he couldn't stand. Not for the first time, anyway. 

He was just reacting like this because he was finally allowed to look at men in that way, and weigh his options. He could finally openly show interest in men -- and not just fantasise about them -- or even make a move on them. Not that he wanted to make a move on Harry. 

Clenching his jaw, Louis tried to pick up on the programme again. He wouldn't sleep with Harry Styles. Period.  

“Make yourself at home,” Harry said dryly as he sat down in the armchair across from Louis. 

“My room is exactly the same,” Louis pointed out, crossing his legs. 

There was a knock on the door and Harry got up to answer it. A moment later, the room was crowded with people. Louis switched off the TV and took his feet off the sofa. 

“Let's keep this short,” Julia said. She had taken control of the their promo tour, scheduling the dates, but also making sure they were asked the right questions. “I think all of us just want to get dinner and head to bed early.” 

Oli sat down next to Louis. He smelled of cigarettes, so Louis guessed he had ignored the no smoking signs in the rooms again. Louis hoped that this time he'd at least used the balcony, but experience made him doubt it.  

“We have interviews with local TV and radio stations tomorrow morning,” Julia said as soon as everyone was seated. “The rest of the cast has arrived throughout the day, but the interviews will be held in this hotel, so they'll join us here.” 

“Do we switch up who we're being interviewed with?” Harry asked. 

“We got requests from most teams. You and Louis will be interviewed together in Louis' suite.” She shrugged, smiling apologetic. “Most of them want to interview you two together.” 

“Guess we'll have to step up our game,” Louis said, glancing at Harry. “If we wanna be convincing.”

“I filtered the questions they're allowed to ask. And by now you should have shared enough personal information to make this convincing.” 

Now, Harry glanced at Louis, and for the first time Louis could read his expression. They didn't know a bloody thing about each other. When Louis nodded to acknowledge Julia’s words, Harry did the same.  

“Just make sure you seem like you're still in that honeymoon phase.” Julia was already going over the papers in her hands, not looking at them. “Act in love. You shouldn't have problems with that.” 

They were both professional actors. There shouldn't be a problem with that. And yet, Louis had never feared he wouldn't get an acting job done like he did this one.  

+++

Dinner was quiet. Everyone seemed tired and exhausted from their long trip. Harry realised now that sleeping right after getting into his hotel room probably hadn’t been a very good idea. He was wide awake, which meant that he had a long night ahead. 

“Sorry, love,” Barbara said when Harry was just about to tell her the punch line of his story. “I’m so knackered. I think I’ll head up to my room.” 

“Oh.” Harry nodded his head quickly, putting his hand over hers. “Of course. Have a good night, love.” 

She kissed his cheek. “You, too.” 

Almost everyone else took Barbara making a start as an excuse to leave, too. Then, it was only him, Louis and Oli left at the table. 

“I think I’ll go to bed, too,” Harry excused himself, horrified at the thought of being left alone with Louis and his friend. 

“Good night,” Oli told him, still nursing his drink. 

Louis lifted his hand off the table in a short wave. “See you in the morning.” 

Harry nodded, wishing them a good night, and headed towards the lift. When he got into the room, he turned on the TV, just to have some noise filling the silence. He took the book he hadn’t managed to finish on the plane and changed the channel to something calm, lowering the volume. 

After about thirty minutes he gave up. He was too awake to go to bed, and his mind was too occupied with what was going to happen the next day to go to sleep. He was genuinely afraid of botching it up. So far, acting like a couple with Louis had only been for paparazzi, and for a few minutes maximum. 

Tomorrow, they’d have to convince those media people they were in love. How were they supposed to do that when they couldn’t stand the sight of each other for longer than five minutes? How was Harry supposed to give answers about Louis when all he knew was that he was an arrogant know-it-all. Or was he? 

Tonight, during dinner, he had been quite sweet with Barbara and Julia. He had laughed with them, had listened to their stories, had patiently told Barbara everything about his sister. The way he had talked about her had been genuinely affectionate, too. That was one thing Harry knew about him. He loved his sister. 

Yet, Harry didn’t even know her name. 

Sighing, he checked his watch. It wasn’t even ten, and he was already bored. There wasn’t much he could do to wear himself down. The hotel’s gym was closed, and going out by himself wasn’t an option. Paul would suffer a heart attack. 

There was always the bar, Harry realised and put his shoes on. He could have a drink, maybe get involved in a mindless conversation with some stranger and get tired over that. 

He took the elevator to the top of the hotel, finding the bar relatively empty. A group of four and a couple sat at separate tables by the window, and only one person sat at the bar. Harry couldn’t really help but smile to himself when he recognised him. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asked when he sat down on the stool. 

Louis turned to him, one hand around a heavy-looking glass. His hair was a little mussed up, and his skin pale in the dim light. It didn’t take away from the brightness of his eyes, though. Harry felt himself drawn to the colour more than he liked to admit. 

Louis blinked at Harry in confusion for a moment, then his mind seemed to clear. “Yeah.” 

“Same,” Harry said and ordered a bourbon. 

“I slept all afternoon.” Louis sighed. “That probably wasn’t the best idea.” 

“Same,” Harry repeated. “I’m wide awake.” 

Louis raised his glass when the waiter placed Harry’s in front of him. “To being sleepless.” 

Harry toasted back. “To being sleepless.” 

For a while, they sat in silence, both sipping from their drinks and watching the barman work. 

“We’re gonna fuck it up tomorrow, right?” Louis asked after a while. 

“Probably,” Harry said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “I never had to do something like this before.” 

Louis turned to look at him. “Really?” He sounded surprised. 

“It was always just being seen holding hands, having lunch and faking some pictures for social media.” Harry turned his face to Louis, too. “I didn’t have to convince anyone that it was real.” 

For a moment, Louis just looked at him, and Harry started to feel uncomfortable under his gaze. “So,” he said then, moving his glass between his fingers. “How are we gonna go about this?” 

“We’re both actors. We should be able to pull this off, right?”

“If we’ve rehearsed well enough,” Louis said. He raised a brow, running his pointer finger over the rim of his glass. “But I forgot. Perfect Actor Harry Styles doesn’t need to rehearse, does he?” 

Harry snorted, not quite sure where that was coming from so suddenly. “Thought that was your motto.” 

“Because the shit I worked on previously is so low-level?” Louis suggested. 

“You said that.” Harry took another sip from his bourbon. 

“But that’s what you think about me.” Louis still looked at him, apparently not afraid of a confrontation. “You only worked with the best directors, only pulled the best roles in the most challenging films. The stuff I’m not good enough for.” 

Harry looked away, focusing on his glass. “That’s what you seem to have a problem with.” 

“I have a problem with you thinking of me as below you,” Louis immediately replied. “And we both know I’m not making that up.” 

For a moment, Harry kept quiet. He knew whatever he was going to say next could either make or break this arrangement between them. He didn’t want to lie, though. He had to be honest; Louis would see through everything else. Harry didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. 

“I think,” Harry said slowly, looking back at Louis, “I found out I was wrong when you got that role instead of me.” 

“I’m not here to prove myself to you.” It came like a gunshot, as though Louis had only been waiting to get to say it. Louis blinked, but otherwise kept his eyes on Harry’s. “I don’t have to.” 

“I didn’t ask you to.” 

“Good.” 

Harry breathed in. “Good.” 

They drank in silence again, and Harry found it comfortable for a while. It was on him to reach out, though. He had a feeling that Louis had reached out first by trying to clear up whatever it was that stood between them. It wasn’t done and over with, but it was a first step. 

“So why is that you hate L.A. so much?” Harry asked. It was the first thing that came to his mind.

Louis shrugged. “It’s so pretentious.” 

“I get what you mean,” Harry said. He pushed his hair back with one hand. “It's not the glamorous place they make it out to be.” 

“Not even a bit,” Louis agreed. 

“I think you just have to look behind its facade.” Harry swirled the bourbon in his glass, watching the lights catch in the amber liquid. “It’s got its good spots.” 

Louis shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t seen those yet.” 

“I wonder if you were even looking,” Harry mumbled. 

“Anyway.” Louis cleared his throat. “What should I know about you? Better not go into those interviews unprepared.” 

“What  _ do _ you know?” Harry asked, genuinely curious. They had spent some time together by now, and just like he had learned a few things about Louis, Louis should have picked up on a few things about Harry. “You must have learned a little about me.”

“Not really,” Louis replied. “I mean. We haven’t talked much, have we?” 

“You love your family,” Harry said, deciding that if he made a start, Louis would probably come around, too. “You have at least one sister. You’re good friends with Liam Payne, good enough that he lets you live with him. You’re stubborn, and you like to be right.” 

Louis looked at him for a moment, his expression blank. “That’s what you’ve gathered about me?” 

“You can be funny, too,” Harry added. “You joke with Barbara, and your assistant. Around me, you use it more as a defense, though. Sarcasm.” 

Whistling, Louis nodded his head. “A true psychologist.” 

“I’m serious, Louis.” Harry rolled his eyes. Louis was doing it again; using sarcasm to hide what he was really thinking. “It’s your turn.” 

“Whatever.” Louis took another sip from his glass. “You’re pretentious. You like to be unique, and keeping up the pretence is important to you. So important that you read analytical books on the plane instead of watching stupid films. You probably only watch what you’d play in, otherwise it’s not good enough for you.” 

Harry frowned, feeling a little wounded. He knew he shouldn’t let Louis’ spite affect him, and yet, it hurt to be perceived in such a false light. “You’re not serious. That’s not who I am.” 

Louis glanced at him, lifting one shoulder. “How would I know, Harry? You like L.A.” 

“That’s what it comes down to for you?” Harry let out an unamused laugh. 

“No.” Louis said after a moment of hesitation. He sighed. “I just really have no idea. That’s why I asked.” 

Harry pondered his reply. He didn’t like Louis thinking of him so lowly, and yet, he didn’t think it was on him to change Louis’ mind. He had been the one to reach out, and he had tried to pour oil on troubled water. Louis didn’t even make an effort. 

Throwing his head back, Harry emptied his glass, then he stood up and leaned against the counter. Louis watched him, his blue eyes suddenly looking grey, and not half as bright as they had when Harry had joined him. There was an insecurity behind them, something Harry had only seen once  before when they had walked out together onto that red carpet. 

He had reached out to Louis then, but he wouldn’t do it now. 

“But you do have one, Louis,” Harry said, setting his glass back down. “You have an idea. And it’s something you’ve made up before you even met me. You’re not even trying to see past that.” 

Louis’ lips formed a thin line, but he didn’t reply. If he had anything to say, Harry didn’t wait for it. Instead, he turned on his heels and went back to his room. 

+++

Louis groaned when the telephone next to his bed rang. He dragged himself around and grabbed the earphone, answering it with a grunt. 

“Good morning, Mr Tomlinson. This is your wake-up call.” 

Louis hummed in agreement, still not ready to open his eyes. 

“Is there anything else you need?” the woman on the other line asked. 

“No, thank you,” Louis replied, forcing himself to sit up. 

“Breakfast will be up in thirty minutes, Sir,” she reminded him in a friendly voice. “Have a good day.” 

The line was cut when Louis said “You, too.” He tilted his head and shrugged before he hung up the phone. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned, wondering if he had slept any longer than two hours. 

In the shower, he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. After Harry had left the bar, Louis had stayed for another drink. He had thought about Harry’s words over and over again, aware that he had been right. 

He had also been right when he had said that Louis was proud. It was his pride that made it hard for him to make a step towards Harry, to admit that he had been stubborn and wrong. That was what had kept him up all night, strangely afraid of what was coming this morning. 

He couldn’t even tell why he was so annoyed with Harry. There was just something about him that was itching Louis, that crawled under his skin and made him squirm with discomfort. Louis couldn’t name it, couldn’t explain it, but he couldn’t ignore it, either. 

There was a knock on his door when he was pulling a jumper over his head. A waiter brought two trays and Louis frowned, before he spotted Barbara. She looked fresh and awake, following the waiter inside the room. 

“Good morning, Lou,” she said, putting down a small bag. “I thought I’d take care of your make-up and styling. How does that sound?” 

“What’s Harry gotta say about it?” Louis asked, eyeing her bag. 

“That’ll give me time to have breakfast,” Harry replied, coming into the room as well. He had the top half of his hair in a bun and wore dark jeans and a blue shirt. It had some white patterns that Louis couldn’t make out. 

Louis watched him flop down onto the big bed, taking one of the trays from the night stand. Turning back to Barbara, Louis shrugged and sat down on the chair she had already dragged over. 

He glanced at Harry again who was comfortably perched up on the bed, eating fruit. Birds, Louis thought. The patterns on Harry’s shirt were birds.

“Really, Styles?” Louis asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. “Fruit for breakfast?” 

Harry shrugged, taking another piece of apple. “Problem?” 

“Serving your image,” Louis said. 

“Glad my image’s intact.” Harry put a hand over his chest and took his cup. 

Rolling his eyes, Louis turned away and let Barbara take care of his wet hair. She was already kneading something into the strands and giggling quietly. 

“What’s so funny?” Louis asked. 

“You two,” she replied. “Always bickering.” 

“Like an old, married couple,” Harry pointed out. “We’ve perfected the act.” 

“You’ve perfected nothing,” Barbara said, getting a hair dryer. “You guys are the worst at this. I’d be surprised if they buy your act today.” 

She turned on the the hair dryer and Louis swallowed thickly, the anxiety back in the pit of his stomach. She was right. No one would buy their act the way they were handling it right now. There was nothing friendly, let alone affectionate between them. 

Quietly, Louis let her do his make-up, trying to come up with something to say to Harry. Something to build a bridge and make the interviews to follow less awkward. Unfortunately, he had no idea what that could be. 

“Okay, you’re good,” Barbara said, petting his shoulder. “Have breakfast. I’ll take care of Harry.” 

Louis got up from the chair and saw Harry roll off the bed. He left his tray on Louis’ duvet, pulling the tie out of his hair. His curls fell loose, and Louis felt the pulse beneath his skin again, that irritating throb. 

Sitting down on his bed, Louis took his own tray, to find cake, toast, jam, and coffee. “What kind of breakfast is that?” 

“Italy serves sweet breakfast,” Barbara told him. 

“Why did Harry get something different?” Louis frowned, looking at Harry’s empty plate. “He didn’t have a sweet breakfast.” 

“Because I ordered it?” Harry said. 

“Just eat it, Louis. You’ll get some nice lunch later.” Barbara rolled her eyes. “Their breakfast is actually really good.” 

And Louis could need the coffee. Sighing, he started eating. It was sickenly sweet, but nevertheless good. It gave him some well-needed energy. 

Barbara took her leave after she finished styling Harry, leaving them alone. Julia was due to come any moment, orchestrating the interviews. That didn’t leave them alone for a long time, but Louis still hoped Julia had showed up while Barbara had still been there. 

“Should I get my sunglasses?” Harry asked as he sat down on the sofa, one arm thrown over the backrest. 

Louis frowned, slowly walking over. “Your sunglasses?” 

“You probably think I’m the kind of person who wears sunglasses in dark rooms.” Harry shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind cater to that image.” 

“Are you mocking me?” Louis lifted a brow. 

“I’d say it’s the other way around.” Harry shrugged, crossing his legs. 

Louis sat down next to him, shoving up the sleeves of his jumper. “You’re a little shit, you know that, Styles?” 

Harry smirked, and he looked so very pleased, it made Louis’ skin prickle with that feeling again. He still hadn’t found a way to make it stop. 

“That goes just too well with your perception of me, doesn’t it?” Harry asked, tilting his head. 

“Will you shut up?” Louis leaned in, one hand coming to grip Harry’s arm. 

That coaxed a reaction from Harry, his eyes growing a little wider, his mouth falling open. Louis leaned in closer, eyes meeting Harry’s, holding his gaze. Harry stared back, and for the first time Louis noticed his eyes were green; dark green, sprinkled with amber. 

When Harry blinked, his eyelids fluttering, and his gaze darting down, Louis drew back. He released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. He uncurled his fingers from Harry’s arm, his skin burning where they had touched. 

“I get it, okay?” Louis said, his own voice sounding dull in his ears. “I was wrong. And I wanted to be wrong.” 

Harry stared at him, a furrow between his brows. He nodded slowly and opened his mouth, but the door opened and Julia burst in. 

“Okay, guys, we’re ready to start,” she said, chipper as always. “The first interview is in five minutes.” 

Louis jumped back, bringing some space between them. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Harry shifted next to him, lacing his fingers in his lap. 

Two housemaids came in; one collecting the trays, the other making up Louis’ bed. A third one came over to place a new tray with two glasses and a bottle of water on the table in front of them. 

Julia came over to them, tilting her head and frowning. “Did you lose your voices?” 

“We’re all good to go,” Harry said. He took a deep breath, and Louis felt his tension; the same tension that rested between his own shoulder blades. 

“First is Kiss Kiss Italia,” Julia told them, apparently satisfied with that answer. 

_ Kiss Kiss _ , Louis repeated in his head, not sure if he found that laughable, or if it was bizarre. He had almost kissed Harry Styles right there, he realised. His throat felt tight, and he had to force himself to not glance at Harry. 

“You’ve got ten minutes with them before I send in the next,” Julia went on, eyes glued to a list on her clipboard. “Any questions?” 

A million. Louis had a million questions, but he didn’t think Julia was the right person to answer them. He slowly shook his head.

“Brilliant. I’ll be right here, so no worries.” She took a seat to the side, clipboard and pen ready. 

A woman was led inside and she greeted them with warm handshakes, introducing herself as Giulia. 

“That’s easy,” Harry said, charmingly holding her hand a little longer than necessary. “Giulia.” 

She giggled, and Louis shook his head slightly, nudging Harry’s side. “You done?” 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you jealous,” she apologised in an adorable accent. 

“Don’t worry, love,” Louis assured her, smiling as sweetly as he could. “I’m not.” 

“Stick to the questions please,” Julia reminded them. 

“Okay, yeah.” Giulia set her mobile down, a recording app running on the display. She greeted them again, introducing both and the film they were there for to promote. 

Louis forgot about that sometimes. Forgot that this was about the film, and not their relationship. The past weeks had made him feel like what they really promoted here was the fake love story between Harry and him. 

“How was it to work together on the movie?” she asked, eyes darting between Harry and Louis. 

“Good,” Harry said, glancing at Louis. “We didn’t have many scenes together, actually.” 

“It looks like that in the preview for the movie,” Giulia agreed. “Are your two stories parallel?” 

“You could say that,” Louis answered. “You see what’s going on with that child from two different perspectives. One is an inmate who wants to save the child, and the other is an officer who knows he can’t save him.” 

“Do they meet at some point?” 

Harry shrugged. “Their fates are connected. In which way, though, the film will reveal when you watch it.” 

She laughed, nodding at Harry’s vague answer. “How did you two meet? On set?” 

“At one of the first rehearsals, yeah.” Louis looked at Harry, saw him nod softly, as if to gesture for Louis to go on. “We had some kind of character read.”

“And was it love at first sight?” Giulia asked, a cheeky glim in her eyes. 

“Definitely not,” Harry said, laughing. It took Louis by surprise when he reached out to take Louis’ hand. “It happened more gradually.” 

“Louis, what are the best three things about Harry?” she asked next, and for a moment, Louis’ heart stopped. 

He didn’t have an answer to that question. Clearing his throat, he laced his fingers with Harry’s, buying some time by smiling at him. “First, he’s intellectual. He reads books I’ve never heard of, and probably wouldn’t understand. Second, he’s healthy. He eats fruits and salads all the time, and works out a lot.” Louis had no idea if that was true. He was just going by those abs he had seen last night. Those had to be built with diligent training. 

Harry laughed, quietly, shaking his head. He looked genuinely touched, and inwardly, Louis applauded his acting. Nothing Louis had said was anything he actually saw as something positive about Harry. 

There had to be something else. Anything about him that Louis could somehow turn into something positive. He said the first thing that came to his mind. “His eyes. His eyes got the rarest colour.” 

“That’s sweet,” Guila cooed. 

For a moment, Harry stared at him intensely, and Louis didn’t even dare glancing at him. He cleared his throat instead and added, “too bad he hides them behind sunglasses all the time.” 

Harry snorted at that, well aware what Louis was hinting at. Giulia wasn’t aware of it, though, and apparently, it didn’t throw her off, either. 

“And Harry, what makes Louis such a great actor?” she asked. 

She really had picked the best questions to ask them. Louis didn’t think Harry could come up with an answer for that. He thought of Louis as a dilettante, a fake, someone who belonged in low-profile productions. 

“He’s versatile,” Harry replied, his hesitation barely noticeable. “He delivers both comedic roles, as well as serious ones. Yet, he’s chosen more often for the comedic ones. For a reason, I think. He’s got his strength focused on what I think suits him better.” 

Stay in your lane, was what he really said. Louis forced a smile when Giulia cooed again, obviously happy with that answer. 

“Can I ask you to give a message to the listeners?” she asked then. 

Afterwards, they took a picture together for the station’s twitter account, Giulia seated between them, arms thrown around both Harry and Louis. She was gone as quickly as she had shown up.

“That went quite well, didn’t it?” Julia asked, scribbling something down. “Next ones are all radio stations. TV interviews begin after lunch.” 

Which meant that the hard part was coming their way then. In front of the cameras they had to be even more convincing. Louis wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. He felt that this first one had been a disaster already. How was he supposed to convince people he liked -- let alone loved -- Harry Styles like this? 

Harry drank his water, seeming all quiet and calm. But when Louis looked more closely, he saw the tension, saw the discomfort. For the first time, he realised that he wasn’t alone in this. Harry was suffering through this as much as he was. 

For some odd reason, Louis couldn’t find comfort in that. 

+++

Harry felt dead on his feet when the last team left. Took one of the cushions and hugged it to his chest, ready to fall asleep on the spot. He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth. 

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” Oli asked, taking a seat in the armchair across from him. 

Louis had gone to the bathroom and Julia was busy telling the technicians where to put their equipment. They’d have another round of interviews in the morning before moving on to Barcelona. 

“Jetlagged,” Harry decided to reply. He didn’t have to know that Harry had lost sleep over Louis Tomlinson. 

“They’ll bring your dinner up in a minute.” Oli pointed at the people still busy with the cameras. “As soon as those guys leave.” 

Harry nodded, not really caring. He just wanted to go back to his own room and fall into bed. Dinner, however, sounded like heaven to his ears, too. He was starved and wouldn’t mind eating something before going to bed. 

Louis came back, looking tired and worn-out. He was rubbing his eye with one hand, the other pushing his hair out of his face. Harry hadn’t noticed before, but his jumper looked quite oversized on him. 

Dinner was served on a trolley, several plates and bowls on trays. A delicious smell reached Harry, and while he watched Louis inspect the bowls, he tried to force himself to stand up from the sofa. 

“Oli?” Julia asked from behind them. “Are you coming?” 

Standing up, Oli drew Louis into a hug. “Get some good rest, okay?” 

Louis nodded, hiding his face against Oli’s shoulder for a moment. Then he let go and flopped down next to Harry again. He smelled of the hotel’s soap, and his hair looked a literal mess. 

When he heard the door lock click, Harry closed his eyes and let go of a heavy breath. “That was exhausting.” 

Louis hummed in agreement. 

“I’m starving.” 

“Me, too.” Louis got up again and came back with two plates, holding out one for Harry. 

“Thanks.” Harry closed his eyes at the first bite. Italian food really was something else. 

“It is,” Louis agreed, and Harry realised he had said it out loud. 

For a while, they ate in silence, both devouring their meal. Louis had taken off his shoes and his feet were tucked beneath his body. He looked all loose and comfortable that way. 

“Oli,” Harry said when his plate was empty. “You seem quite close to him.” 

Louis nodded. “We went to school together.” 

“So he’s part of your home.” Harry thought about that, about how much he often wished a part of his home was with him. “That’s quite clever.” 

Shrugging, Louis emptied his plate, too, and put it on the table. “He’s not really made for the job. But he tries, and having him around, I feel grounded. If that even makes sense.” 

“He’s no Paul,” Harry agreed. “But I think he really cares about you.” 

Louis hummed. “He does. He likes me for who I am. That doesn’t happen all that often anymore, these days.” 

Harry put up his feet on the table, tilting his head to look at Louis. He had his eyes closed, and his head leaned back against the backrest of the sofa. It exposed his neck, and his profile was a stark contrast against the dim light of the lamp behind him. 

“Not many people to trust, are there?” Harry asked. 

“Especially after that coming out,” Louis said. He wound his arms around himself, as if he was cold. “They try to get close for a story. Can’t be careful enough.” 

Harry could only imagine what that was like. He had never had to go through a public coming out, and maybe he had been unfair judging Louis for the way he had handled it. The kind of attention he had received for outing himself had probably not been what he had asked for. 

“Is that why you became an actor?” Harry looked out of the window, not sure he wanted to see Louis’ reaction. “Because you were already pretending to be someone else?” 

Louis was quiet for a while. He sat up and changed his position, facing Harry now. “Maybe a little. I always liked acting in school, and I felt that I had a talent for it. After all, I had deceived everyone around me -- including myself -- for years. And no one had suspected a single thing.” 

Harry felt like he could relate to that. He had been lying about who he had really been for a long time himself. The only difference was that he had taken the step of taking off that mask a little sooner than Louis. 

“I don’t think that was the sole reason, though,” Louis went on, eyes darting down. He looked pale in the artificial light of the room. “I figured that it’s like painting. People paint what they want to see, what they want someone to be like. And I figured I don’t have to be the painter, I can be the painting.” 

Harry tilted his head, frowning slightly. “The painting?” 

“People paint what they desire, and what they dream of. It’s a nice thought that I can let them paint me in a million different dreams. They can choose who they want me to be.” 

“And who do you want to be?” Harry asked. “Doesn’t that count, too?” 

Louis smiled at him, shrugging lightly. “I can choose from those paintings, and be whichever version I like best.” 

“Isn’t that just running away from who you really are, though?” Harry frowned deeper. It was romantic, the way Louis described it. A very romanticised view of the actor. Yet, very far from reality. 

“Getting psychoanalytical again, Styles?” Louis smirked. 

Harry snorted. “You’re the one likening yourself to a painting here, Tomlinson.” 

Louis laughed softly, and Harry took it as a sign that he was too tired to fight. If Harry was honest, he was too tired himself, and even if only half of the things Louis had said made sense, they had still given Harry some insight. He felt like Louis had opened to him for the first time tonight, and that was a win. 

“It’ll get easier, right?” Louis asked and Harry snapped out of his thoughts. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“The interviews.” Louis got up from the sofa and went over to his bed. “I feel like most of them were awkward today, but we’ll get better at this, won’t we?” 

Harry watched him, and blushed when Louis pulled off his jumper. He quickly got up from the sofa, too. “The questions will repeat themselves. We’ll be better at answering them.” 

“I hope so,” Louis mumbled. He came back, wearing a t-shirt now. “Dessert?” he asked, eyeing the remaining food on the trolley. 

“No, thanks,” Harry replied, smirking weakly. “Don’t wanna ruin my healthy eating schedule.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but didn’t take anything, either. 

“I guess I’ll just head to bed.” Harry picked up his shoes and fumbled his keycard out of the back pocket of his jeans. 

Louis followed him. “Hey,” he said when Harry opened the door. 

Harry turned around, surprised by how close behind him Louis stood. Their chests bumped together, and Harry took a hasty step back. Louis buried his hands in his pockets and lowered his gaze to the floor. 

“I meant what I said this morning.” 

Harry tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

Louis glanced up at Harry briefly. “I was a dick last night. You tried to make this easier for us, and I completely shut you down.” 

Surprised, Harry had no idea what to say for a moment. “It’s-- it’s all right.” 

Louis smiled briefly, lifting one shoulder. “Thanks.” 

Brutally honest, Harry thought and forced some air into his lungs. Louis could be brutally honest. It was harder to handle than his sarcastic, defensive self. Harry had no idea how to reply. 

Time was suspended for a moment. Harry wanted to reach out, wanted to find the right words to say. Louis looked delicate and small, his body illuminated by the small light on the other side of the room, his hair messy, his skin pale. 

He lifted his head, and there was something in his eyes when he looked at Harry; a gleam, something brave, something playful. “I won’t take any shit from you, though,” he said, suddenly back to his usual self. Proud, fearless, cheeky. “Just so we’re clear, Styles.” 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t think you would.” 

“We both have to make this work, and I’ll do my part.” Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And you’ll do yours.” 

“Whatever’s necessary,” Harry agreed. He turned again, still grinning to himself. “Good night, Louis.” 

“See you in the morning,” Louis said, closing the door behind Harry. 

That night, Harry fell asleep immediately, his mind still troubled, but not in the same way it had been the night before. They hadn’t been good today, but at least they were working towards the same goal now. 

Instead, he dreamed of Louis grabbing his arm, fingers warm and slender, his eyes clear blue, a sea Harry drowned in and couldn’t get out of. Louis standing close behind him, and their chests touching when Harry turned, leaving a burn that wouldn’t die down. 

That was some entirely different kind of trouble Harry had on his mind.

===

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading! <3


	5. Heavy Damage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you need to go and send love and appreciation and praise to [Addy](http://tvshows-addict.tumblr.com/) and [Andy](http://sunshinelouis.tumblr.com/) for being fabulous betas. It's entirely on them that we get an update tonight because I was awfully late with this chapter! 
> 
> Also, Louis' siblings' age is slightly differed from canon in this fic! 
> 
> It's also turned into a 10k chapter... oops! But ,well, we're making progress ;) So, without further ado, here it is! Enjoy the read <3

 

“I wish we could’ve been here during Christmas season,” Harry said when they boarded the plane in Berlin. “German Christmas markets are something else.” 

Louis hummed in agreement, watching the rain fall outside. For the two days they had stayed in Berlin, it had constantly rained. Louis didn’t think it’d be any different in London. Yet, London suited the rain better than Berlin did. 

Inside the plane, Louis sat down next to Oli while Harry and Barbara sat down behind them. 

“You’re getting better at this,” Oli said, fastening his seatbelt. “Both of you.” 

Louis smiled wearily. “I guess.” 

They had become better at this. After Rome, they had come to some kind of truce. They were both holding up their ends of the contract, taking the pretending seriously. That didn’t mean they got along any better than before, though. It was a truce, nothing more. 

Harry was still irritating Louis. On that first morning in Rome, Louis had lost his mind for a second -- a second in which he had thought the irritation could be erased by kissing Harry. He couldn’t deny that Harry was attractive, but that didn’t explain that slip-up. 

Louis tried to ban it from his memory and forget that it had ever happened. It had been nothing but a confusion of feelings. A moment of delusion. Louis’ mind was clear again.

Most of the time, anyway. 

In Barcelona, they had had some time to see the city. Whenever Louis came there, he fell in love with it more. It seemed that Harry liked it, too. He had been fascinated with every single stone of the city. 

They had been sent on a date to Gaudi’s house, to make sure that they were seen. Lots of people had taken pictures and asked them for selfies. As they had been told, they had complied to every request and had acted in love the whole time. 

It had its good parts, too. Louis had realised that holding someone’s hand was something he wanted for real. As soon as he’d get out of this contract, he’d find someone nice to fall in love with and to hold hands with. To kiss. To hold. To have sex with. 

God, he missed sex. It had been so long since he had last shared a bed with someone that wasn’t one of his sisters. He wanted the heat and the passion -- all of it. He hadn’t come out to be shoved right back into a corner where he had to watch instead of act. 

All he wanted was a chance at something real and stable. Maybe he had to fool around a little before finding the right one, but God, did he hope the right one was going to come around soon. Louis didn’t want to fool around anymore. 

He thought of the picture they had taken in Paris. Harry had complained about it being too cheesy, and all Louis had thought was that one day, he’d like to return to the suite with a view of the Eiffel Tower and take a genuine picture like that with the one he loved. 

He was a romantic, sue him. 

Oli had taken the picture of them on the balcony of Harry’s suite, their backs turned to the camera, Harry’s arms slung around Louis’ waist, the lights of the city illuminating their silhouettes and the Eiffel Tower bright and beautiful in the distance. Harry had put the picture on his instagram in black and white. 

Julia was over the moon. Their relationship was the most talked-about in Hollywood and every news outlet around the world. None of Harry’s previous fake relationships had had a reach like this one. Everyone was interested, and it had gained both of them fans. There were even internet communities dedicated to their relationship. 

That meant that whatever they did wasn’t too shabby an act to convince people. Louis had seen the comments beneath the picture he had posted of himself and Harry and the comments beneath Harry’s Paris picture. They all talked about how Harry had finally stopped fake dating, that he had finally found something real. 

Oddly enough, it made Louis feel bad to think about disappointing them. They’d realise that all of this had been nothing but a sham, that they had been betrayed once again. Then again, they probably wouldn’t bother and just move on to whatever exciting thing happened next in Hollywood. 

“You have interviews all through Monday,” Oli said, scrolling on his phone. “Just got the confirmation of the driver. They'll pick you up at six.” 

Louis nodded, storing the information away in the back of his mind. He'd have all of Sunday to adjust to the time zone and have some well earned time to himself. 

After this week, Louis was looking forward to be alone for longer than an hour. Always being surrounded by people was exhausting for him. He was looking forward to spending a lazy day on the sofa, watching TV and eating junk food all day.  

The plane took off, and Louis closed his eyes. Afterwards, Oli was off to go through something with Julia a few rows behind him. He was just about to listen to some music when Harry plopped into Oli’s vacated seat.  

Louis raised a brow at him. 

“I talked to Julia again,” Harry said, fidgeting the hem of his t-shirt. “About the weekend.” 

This bloody weekend. Louis clenched his jaw and looked at his hands. “What about it?” 

“If I--” Harry paused, clearing his throat. “Since I’ll accompany you to your family’s home, I won’t get a chance to see mine at all during our time in England.” 

“That’s shit,” Louis mumbled, glancing at Harry. 

“Julia said if you agree, we could go to my home Sunday, instead of going straight back to London.” Harry stopped fidgeting and laced his fingers. “Just for lunch, or something.” 

There was no way Louis could deny Harry this. As much as he annoyed Louis, and as much as Louis couldn’t stand him, he knew that Harry probably got to be home even less than Louis did. They were in England for only a few days before moving on to Oslo, and it was only fair that Harry got a chance to see his family, too. 

“She wants us to go together?” he asked when he noticed that Harry was staring at him in anticipation. 

“She said we could be papped together with my family.” Harry looked away. “It’d be a good opportunity.” 

“Your family is okay with that?” Louis pursed his lips. 

Harry shrugged. “I guess they’re okay with it in the same way your family is okay with me coming over to their home.” 

To record him, and take pictures that they’d share on social media, to sell the picture-perfect romance. Louis hated that they were even involving their families. The stunt was going so well that Julia had come up with a million ideas how to sell it further. 

“Sure,” Louis said, shrugging and turning to the window again. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your family.” 

Harry audibly released his breath. “Thank you.” 

Louis just shrugged, but didn’t turn. He waited until Harry had stood up again to move back to his seat, then he unclenched his fists.

So much for having a whole day to himself. 

+++

Harry looked at the house in front of them when Louis stopped the car. It was huge, three floors as far as Harry could make out, and a huge yard surrounding it. 

“That’s it,” Louis said and got out of the car. “That’s my home.”

The drive up here from London had been a torture. Harry usually enjoyed long drives, but with Louis, it had been an endless fight over radio stations, heavy silence and stretching hours. In a way, Harry was glad they had finally made it. Then again, he was scared of what would come next. If Louis’ family was anything like him, he’d have that car ride experience multiplied for the next two days. 

Louis was already getting their bags out of the boot, putting them next to the car. Harry sighed heavily and got out of the passenger seat, offering his help. 

“Just take whatever’s yours,” Louis said and grabbed his own bags. 

Harry silently obeyed and followed Louis to the front entrance. His stomach turned with nervousness when Louis rang the doorbell. This weekend could potentially become the two worst days of his life. 

The door opened and Harry tensed up, holding his breath. Maybe they just wouldn’t notice him. 

“Lou,” the girl at the door squeaked and immediately threw herself at him. She wasn’t older than fifteen, Harry didn’t think so. Her hair was long and tied up in a bun on top of her head. 

Louis cowered down a little to accommodate her. He pulled her close and swayed slightly. It looked intimate, not even a little forced. A lot of love connected them, Harry could tell that from just the way they greeted each other. Brother and sister, picture perfect. 

Within moments, she was gone, hurrying inside. Louis followed her with a kind of gentle, warm laugh Harry had never heard from him before. Looking over his shoulder, Louis seemed to remember Harry and gestured for him to follow. 

Harry closed the door behind himself and the girl came back, dashing past him to run up the stairs that led to the next floor. Harry gazed after her for a moment when another girl came into the room. She was older than the first, her hair darker. She was tall and curvy -- a beautiful young woman. 

“Look who’s finally made it home,” she said, pulling Louis in. “It’s been longer this time.” 

Louis nodded, burying his face against her neck. His body looked lax, and Harry could see his back heaving when he took a deep breath. It seemed like Louis was able to relax for the first time in ages.

“You’re early.” Harry tore his eyes from Louis and his sister and saw a woman come into the room. Her hair was just as dark, tied back in a tail. She stretched out her hands, and Harry almost choked when he realised she didn’t go for Louis, but for him. “You must be Harry.” 

Harry nodded dumbly, reaching out one hand to take hers. “It’s nice meeting you. Thank you for having me. I’m sorry for the trouble.” 

“Now, now.” She squeezed his hand. “There’s no trouble, and if anyone’s causing trouble in this household, it’s the young man over here.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, but he looked incredibly happy when he hugged his mother. She whispered something into his ear that made him nuzzle even closer to her. He looked very young, all of a sudden, eyes crinkling and cheeks rosy. 

“I’m Jay,” she said when Louis let go of her, turning to Harry again. “And we’re happy to have you here, love.” 

“I’m Felicité.” The older of Louis’ sisters held out her hand for Harry, too. “I’m a big fan.” 

Now, that was probably a lie, but Harry took it, smiling when he shook her hand. “Harry. Thank you.”

“Come on. Leave your bags here. We’ll have dinner first.” Jay gestured for them to follow and Harry let everyone else go ahead before he moved. 

They came into an open kitchen. There was a huge table in the dining area, and in the kitchen the younger girl from earlier was at the cooker. She turned around, putting down the spoon she held. 

Harry frowned slightly, because her hair was braided now, and he was sure she had worn something dark before. He hadn’t seen her come back down, either. Maybe there was another staircase somewhere else in the house. 

It added to Harry’s confusion when she greeted Louis again, throwing her arms around his neck and making him lift her up a little. No one payed attention to him, though, and he didn’t dare asking. 

“Fizzy, set the table, would you?” Jay said, opening a cupboard. 

In that moment, another person came into the kitchen, squeezing past Harry. He realised that she was actually the girl from before, and that the girl at the cooker was her twin. She carried an even smaller child, a boy with long, curly blond hair. He spotted Harry and blinked at him. 

Harry wasn’t sure he could keep up. 

“Phoebe, did you greet our guest?” Jay asked. 

The girl turned around and spotted Harry. “Hi, I’m Phoebe. Nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice meeting you,” Harry replied, not quite sure he really meant it. “I’m Harry.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she said, adjusting the toddler in her arms. “I saw you in some films.” 

Dumbly, Harry nodded, and Louis acknowledged him for the first time when he snorted. 

“This is Ernest,” Phoebe kept talking, like this wasn’t awkward at all. “He’s my brother.” 

Harry crouched down to get on eye-level with Ernest. “Hi, Ernest. I’m Harry.” 

Ernest tilted his head, nuzzling closer into Phoebe’s arms. 

“How old is he?” Harry asked. 

“Turning two in January,” Phoebe replied. “They’re the youngest.” 

“They?” Harry looked from Ernest to her again. 

She shrugged. “Ernest and Doris are twins.” 

Two sets of twins. Harry couldn’t help but glance at Jay, making sure she was a real person. She was there, coordinating dinner, not looking fazed a bit. That was what superhumans looked like, probably. “You’re a big family, aren’t you?” 

“It’s cool,” Phoebe said, and turned to carry Ernest to the playpen that was set up next to the dinner table. 

Feeling useless, Harry kept standing by the door, watching the family follow something that was apparently routine. Louis and Felicité were setting the table, talking loudly, Phoebe and her twin filled the contents of the pots into bowls. Jay came from another room, carrying bottles. 

“Can I help you?” Harry offered, reaching out for the bottles. 

“Sit down, love,” Jay told him, shooing him away. “You’re our guest.” 

She kept saying that, as if they had waited for him to visit. As if he was actually welcome here, and none of this was part of a sham. As if he wasn’t an intruder. 

“Sorry, Doris was making a bit of a fuss,” another voice said. Harry turned and saw another woman come into the room. She had long, platinum blond hair, and looked very fashionable. She carried the ginger toddler she had on her arms over to the playpen. Harry figured that it was Ernest’s twin sister. 

“Oh, Harry Styles,” the woman recognised him, coming over with a hand extended for him. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Lottie.” 

“The stylist,” Harry realised, saying it out loud. 

“I’m glad you’ve heard of me,” she replied, looking amused. 

“My stylist is your biggest fan,” Harry told her. Maybe he could at least make some connection for Barbara while he was here. 

Lottie tilted her head and smiled. “Louis told me.” 

“He did?” Harry glanced over at Louis, not sure what to think. He hadn’t thought that Louis was going to actually tell his sister about Barbara when she had asked him to. Harry really had no idea how Louis’ mind worked. 

“I’ll definitely give her a call,” Lottie said, taking Harry’s arm to lead him over to the table. “I didn’t get around to it this week.” 

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled. “She’ll be over the moon.” 

Lottie patted his shoulder. “I see what she’s doing with you, so I guess it’ll be a win for me, too.” 

Harry laughed. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

“I like the headbands.” Lottie touched his hair, running a finger over the green band Harry wore today. “Her idea?” 

“All hers,” Harry confirmed. “I’m trying to grow it out.” 

“That’ll suit you.” Lottie sat down, gesturing at the chair next to her for Harry to sit down, too. “You’ve got beautiful locks.” 

“He’s not into girls, Lotts,” Louis said as he sat down across from Harry. He took a bottle of water and filled Harry’s glass. “You’re wasting your time.” 

“I wasn’t hitting on him.” Lottie rolled her eyes. “Just stating the obvious. He’s got great hair. Don’t act like you didn’t notice.” 

“I like your hair, too,” Phoebe said. She set down two bowls on the table before she took the seat next to Harry. 

Louis shook his head and muttered something under his breath, clearly not agreeing with his sisters. Harry wondered why he was so insistent on making this stay unpleasant for Harry. His family seemed nice and accommodating. If they resented Harry in any way for the situation Louis was in, they didn’t show it. Louis was the only one hell-bent on making this awkward. 

When everyone was seated, Harry watched chaos unfold, several hands reaching over the table in different directions. Phoebe and her twin -- Daisy, as Harry learned in that very moment -- fought over the cheese plate, Louis cut pasta in small bites for the little ones that were already grabbing it from their plates, Felicité asked Jay to hand her the bread. 

“Harry,” Jay said when she spotted him watching them instead of eating. “Help yourself.” 

Harry followed the order and filled his plate. Despite everyone eating, it didn’t get quiet around the table. Instead, Harry had the impression the volume increased even more. There were several conversations going on, and Harry had no idea which one to follow. 

“Sorry, Harry,” Jay said, drawing his attention to her. “It’s not always this chaotic.” 

Harry smiled and shrugged lightly. “I like it. The kids are lovely.” 

“They usually are.” Jay winked. “My son, though, isn’t being very lovely tonight.” 

Louis frowned at her and rested his hand on Ernest’s head. “Just because he eats his pasta with his hands, mum? Let the boy live.” 

Jay didn’t look impressed. “Very funny, Lou.” 

“Where are you from, Harry?” Lottie asked, distracting him from Jay and Louis. 

“I grew up in Cheshire, actually. Not too far away.” 

Lottie hummed. “Are you gonna see your family while you’re here?” 

Harry nodded. “Briefly. We’ll go up for lunch on Sunday before we have to go back to London.” 

“Louis’s coming with you?” Lottie raised a brow. 

“Well, I accompanied him here, so he’ll come to my home, too.” Harry shrugged, taking his glass. “Just like my visit here, it’ll be mostly for social media and the public.” 

“They’re very bent on making this look real, aren’t they?” Felicité asked. 

“The reception’s been better than expected,” Louis explained. When Harry looked at him, he was busy wiping Doris’ mouth with a napkin. “We gather some extra promo from staging this relationship, so they milk it in every way possible.” 

Harry stayed silent, deciding not to comment on that. None of his fauxmances before had been handled like this. They'd been more low-key, a lunch or dinner with paparazzi around, a party where they were seen together, sharing pictures on their social media. Never before had Harry had his family involved. 

“Do you have any siblings?” Lottie wanted to know. 

“An older sister,” Harry replied. He looked around the table. “I didn't know Louis had this many siblings. It's great.” 

Felicité snorted. “Didn't deem it necessary to mention us, did you?” 

“I didn't deem it necessary telling Styles about any of you,” Louis said and adjusted Ernest on his lap. “I didn't think he'd ever need to know about you until yesterday.” 

“You're impossible,” Jay commented. “I didn't raise you to be so obnoxious, did I?” 

“It's mutual,” Louis told her. “We've discussed it.” 

Harry laughed, couldn't help it. 

“I don't think Harry is as impolite towards you.” Jay started to collect the dirty dishes. “He's so lovely.” 

“You've known him for five minutes, mum.” 

Feeling uncomfortable, Harry got up and took Felicité and Lottie’s plates. He really didn't want to be in the room for this conversation.  

“Oh, stop it, Styles.” Louis groaned. 

“Thank you, love,” Jay said, leading the way to the kitchen. 

Harry followed instantly, happy to get away from Louis' judging gaze.  

“I'm sorry for his behaviour.” Jay opened the dishwasher. “I suspected he might act that way. He's very protective of us.” 

Harry shook his head. “I get that. I'm the same with my family. I try to keep them out of this as much as possible.” 

“And that's what you should do.” Jay touched his arm. “Still, I wouldn't want you to feel unwelcome here. We know the situation, and we know that neither of you chose this.” 

“Well,” Harry admitted, “we were both aware of what we signed.” 

Jay hummed. “I don't understand why you don't get along. You seem like the kind of person he'd usually appreciate.”

Harry opened his mouth, but then realised he didn't have an answer. He disliked Louis, but he couldn't even say why he did anymore. 

Jay smiled knowingly and touched his arm. “I guess you're both just very stubborn.” 

“Maybe,” Harry mumbled. 

“Anyway, let's get your bags upstairs,” Jay said, not prodding the topic any further. “I'll show you to your room.” 

+++

Louis watched the scene in front of him with leeriness. He should have known that his family were all traitors, ganging up on him behind his back. Dan, his mother’s husband, as well as Doris and Ernest’s father, had come home by now. He sat next to Louis, smiling fondly and laughing brightly, as if he was actually having fun. 

The biggest traitors were Ernest and Doris, though. They were practically glued to Harry, squealing and chuckling like they hadn't had this much fun in ages. 

“He's good with kids,” Dan said, voice oozing with fond. 

“They already love him,” Jay agreed, sitting down next to him. 

Louis rolled his eyes and got up to walk over to where Harry let Doris and Ernest climb on his back, pretending he was their dog. “Okay, it's bedtime.” 

“Noooo!” Doris wound her tiny arms around Harry's neck.  

Sitting up, Harry placed her in his lap while Ernest still clung to his back. “Can't they have five more minutes?” 

If Harry could stop acting like he was a toddler himself, this would be a little easier on Louis. He had to tell his mind that Harry was not endearing at all. Louis crouched down and reached for Doris. She came a little reluctantly. “Don't you want me to read your bedtime story tonight?” 

Now, both Doris and Ernest got excited, clapping their hands and focusing their attention on Louis. He was their favourite, after all. Looking up at Harry, Louis gave him a triumphant grin. It didn't feel like he had won anymore, however, when Harry just smiled back fondly. 

Why couldn't that bloke admit to his defeat? Louis frowned and stood up, lifting Doris onto his arms. The real question probably was why Louis made a competition of it. They were his siblings, and of course they wouldn't start loving Harry more than him just because he had played with them for twenty minutes. There was no reason for him to be worried. 

He went upstairs with the twins, ignoring Harry’s little pout. The older twins followed him, just like he had expected. They always wanted to hear the stories he told as well. It probably wouldn’t be like that for much longer, but as long as they did, Louis would always tell them. 

Daisy and Phoebe helped getting the small ones ready for bed. Bathroom routine was a mess, but Louis heaved a relieved sigh when they got over with it. In the twins’ bedroom, they hopped into bed, and Louis sat down on the floor, Daisy and Phoebe sitting on each side of him. 

Tonight, he told them an adventure story of a girl that sailed with pirates and discovered new land. She was brave and witty, fearless and kind in her heart. All four were hanging on Louis’ lips. When he finished the story, Ernest was almost asleep, and Doris didn’t put up a fight, closing her eyes, too. 

Quietly, Louis left the room, leaving on a small light. Daisy and Phoebe ran ahead down the stairs and Louis followed contently. He had almost forgotten that Harry was there, only realising it when he saw him sitting in the living room in the middle of Louis’ family, acting as if he’d always been there. 

“Come here, Lou,” Jay said, gesturing for him to sit with her.

He went easily. After becoming famous, he had learned that his mother cherished every minute he was home, and just wanted to have him close. He was away so much that she always held on a little tighter each time he finally came home. 

“What are you looking at?” Louis asked, watching Harry and Lottie stare at her mobile. 

“I made a few snaps of Harry and the twins. It’s cute,” Lottie said without looking up. “It’s got thousands of views already.” 

“Not a minute off.” Louis leaned back on the sofa. “Always working, aren’t you?” 

Harry frowned slightly. “Playing with toddlers is not exactly work.” 

“It’s part of the list from Julia we got to fulfill, though, isn’t it?” Louis raised a brow. 

“But that’s not why I--” Harry stopped and shook his head. “Nevermind. It’s off the list, I guess.” 

“Like I thought.” Louis took the remote and switched on the TV, looking for a good programme. 

“You’re really good with children, aren’t you, Harry?” Dan asked. 

“I like them.” Harry’s voice showed that he wasn’t as relaxed as he had been before. Louis tried to ignore the guilt he felt. “I’ve always liked children. Maybe because I never quite grew up myself.” 

Fizzy laughed. “Funny. We keep calling Louis Peter Pan.” 

Harry looked genuinely amused. “He does look like him a little.” 

“I’m still in the room, you know,” Louis reminded them. “And I don’t look like Peter Pan.” 

After a while, Jay and Dan excused themselves to go to bed. Jay kissed all of them on the cheek, even Harry, and Louis rolled his eyes at her, earning a stern look that said  _ behave yourself _ . As if he ever wouldn’t. He was allowed to show his dislike for Harry, though. 

Watching him talk to Fizzy, making her laugh and looking genuinely happy about that, made it hard for Louis to remember why he disliked Harry in the first place, though. Over the past week, he had found out that Harry wasn’t as bad as Louis had initially thought. At least, they got along better than he had suspected in the beginning. Whyever that was, Louis didn’t like it. He wasn’t supposed to like Harry. 

“Hey, Harry,” Daisy said, moving closer to him. “Louis never tells us about acting the steamy parts in films. What is it like?” 

Harry laughed and glanced up at Louis. “If your brother doesn’t tell you, there must be a reason for that.” 

“You’re children,” Louis reminded them. “You’re not supposed to care about those things.” 

“We watch them.” Phoebe crouched down in front of Harry, and Louis knew she was using her puppy look on him. “Is it all real, or is there some way to just make it look real?” 

Harry was hesitant for a moment. “Both,” he said, then. “A kiss, for example. You do it for real, but you just act like you feel anything.” 

“Does that work?” Fizzy asked. 

“Of course.” Louis sat up in the armchair, resting his elbows on his knees. “We learn to basically kiss anyone without feeling a single thing.” 

“Can you do it?” Lottie asked. 

“Do what?” Harry sounded a little horrified. 

“Show us,” Lottie demanded. She raised a brow at Louis, and her look was challenging. Of bloody course, she made a bet out of this. “You both know how to stage a kiss, don’t you?” 

“Not in front of the kids,” Harry immediately replied. 

“They’re old enough.” 

Louis shot her a glance that called murder. She was going to suffer for this. Both Phoebe and Daisy were staring at him with round eyes, and Lottie was well aware that he couldn’t refuse now. They’d prod him about it for the rest of their stay, until Jay would catch wind of it. Louis preferred his mother not finding out about it. 

“Come here, Styles,” he said, gesturing for Harry to move over. 

Harry shook his head. “I’m not gonna kiss you.” 

“God’s sake, it’s staged. Like you’d kiss me if we had to in a film.” Louis shifted in the armchair to make space for Harry. “Let’s get it over with, or they’ll bug us all day tomorrow.”

Still not looking convinced, Harry stared at him. “You sure?” 

“We’re professionals, aren’t we?” Louis raised a brow. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“No problem, no.” Harry got up from the sofa and walked over to Louis. He sat down on the armrest of the chair, eyes fixed on Louis’ face. “Are you gonna explain them how it works?” 

Louis tore his eyes from Harry’s face and looked at his sisters. All of them watched with anticipation, and Louis wondered what was so fascinating to them. Except for Lottie -- she looked just smug. Louis would show her that she was wrong, and that stage kissing Harry Styles was no problem for him. 

“You gotta make it look sincere, that’s what it’s all about.” Louis looked back at Harry, and his breath got caught when he found Harry staring at him, eyes hooded, a lopsided grin gracing his lips. Louis licked his own. “A bit of nervousness, a bit of hesitation. You gotta look like you’re into it.” 

Harry leaned in, and with his thumb, he lifted Louis’ chin up slightly. His eyelids fluttered closed and Louis did the same. Their lips met in a soft, gentle swipe. It was barely a brush, making Louis exhale on a stuttered breath. Harry tilted his head and pressed his lips more firmly against Louis’. He was gentle, nipping Louis’ lips in the most delicious way. Louis lifted his hand and buried his fingers in Harry’s hair. 

Harry darted his tongue out for the briefest moment, swiping it over Louis’ bottom lip, leaving Louis shaken up inside. His stomach muscles contracted with a sudden heat, a sudden pull of  _ want want want  _ that he couldn’t control. They pulled back at the same moment, and Louis thought if it had been a real kiss, he’d pull Harry back in now, explore that feeling in more detail, find out what Harry tasted like. 

This wasn’t real, though. 

“There,” he said, letting go of Harry and shrugging. He was glad his voice sounded even and unaffected. “It’s nothing.” 

“Looked real to me,” Fizzy commented. 

“That was the purpose, wasn’t it?” Louis snorted. “Otherwise we’d be some shit actors.” 

“Wow,” Daisy said, openly showing her admiration. “That looked just like in a film!” 

“Yeah, no. Well done.” The way Lottie said it, implied there was more to it. Louis didn’t like her tone at all. She held up her mobile. “I snapped it.” 

“You did what?” Harry gasped, tensing up next to Louis. 

“It’s convenient, isn’t it? Your PR people will love that.” Lottie shrugged. “You won’t have to do it again, now that it’s out there.” 

“You’re the worst sister in the world,” Louis deadpanned. 

Lottie winked at him. “You’ll thank me later.” 

She wasn’t wrong. Their teams would’ve insisted on a picture of a kiss at some point, and like this, it was already done and over with. Yet, Louis would’ve liked to give his consent at least. Harry probably felt the same about it. 

Louis looked at Harry to check if he was upset, but he immediately had to look away again. Harry’s lips seemed even more red, even more plush than they usually did. Swallowing thickly, Louis got up from the sofa. If Harry was upset, he could tell Lottie himself. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. It’s been a long day.” He pointed at Daisy and Phoebe. “And it’s way past your bedtime.” 

“It’s Friday,” Phoebe said. “We’re allowed to stay up longer.” 

Louis shooed them out of the room and waited until Fizzy and Harry had gone, too. He stared after them for a moment, trying to find any signs of Harry being affected by the kiss. He looked completely normal, though. 

“Oh, how I love being right,” Lottie chirped, hip-checking Louis. “You’re hot for him.” 

“Shut up. I’m not.” Louis crossed his arms and ignored her. He didn’t. He absolutely didn’t feel anything for Harry Styles. If his lips were tingling a little, it was only because he hadn’t been kissed in so long. It had nothing to do with Harry. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Lottie whistled happily and followed him upstairs. 

+++

Louis got a taste of what Harry had felt like coming into Louis’ family when they arrived in Holmes Chapel on Sunday noon. 

It had been raining for the whole drive up to Harry’s hometown. This time, Louis had let Harry have his way with the radio. He had connected his mobile and chosen a playlist that had perfectly suited the rainy day. Just like on the ride from London to Doncaster, they hadn’t talked much. 

Saturday had gone better than Friday night. Harry had seemed relaxed and content around Louis’ family. He had helped Jay with breakfast. Louis had to admit that Harry was quite good in the kitchen. The pasta they had had for dinner a while ago at Harry’s house had been good, but the breakfast Harry had made was something else. His bacon had been perfectly crisp, and the eggs fluffy. He definitely knew his way around the kitchen. 

Before they had departed this morning, Harry had hugged every member of the family. Daisy and Phoebe had told him to come back soon, inviting him for their birthday even. Harry had thanked Jay a million times over for letting him stay at her house. 

For a few instances, Louis had feared that Jay would want to replace Louis with him. She was endeared by Harry, and Louis totally got why. He was the most perfect gentleman, kind and friendly, knew how to handle young children, and was useful in the kitchen on top of that. Objectively, Louis absolutely got why everyone was so in love with Harry Styles. 

Louis saw through it, though. He knew in his bones that it was just for show. He had to give Harry that; he was a great actor and knew how to convince people of his act. 

That had shown in the kiss, too. Harry hadn’t even mentioned it again. He had just ignored it, had acted like it had never happened. Of course, Louis had done the same. That kiss hadn’t meant a thing, and if it had thrown Louis off for a minute, that was only natural. Harry was attractive, and Louis was attracted to men, and his body had just reacted to finally getting to kiss a man. Even if it had only been staged. 

After everyone had gone to bed, and the house had been quiet, Louis had pulled up Lottie’s Snapchat. He had looked at the videos of Harry playing with the kids first. There had been another few of Lottie taking selfies with Daisy and Phoebe, all three of them pulling duck faces that had made Louis smile. It had frozen when he had seen the short video of him and Harry kiss. It had looked intimate and affectionate. They had both made it look more than believable. 

Louis had received a text from Julia the next morning, praising the idea. She had been over the moon with the reactions they had received. Louis had decided not to look at those. 

He was over it now. 

When they arrived in Holmes Chapel, the rain had stopped. The sky was still grey, but Louis took it as a sign. Harry had been kind of fidgety for the last fifteen minutes, and he was out of the car as soon as it stopped. 

When Louis left the car, a blond woman had already come outside the pub and was hugging Harry. She had her eyes closed, but her lips moved. Louis watched them and decided to leave them a moment to themselves. 

Harry turned to Louis when she let go and said something that made her slap his arm lightly. Then she approached Louis and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Gemma, and a huge fan.” 

Probably not, but Louis took it. He smiled and shook her hand. “Thank you. It’s lovely meeting you.” 

“Come on inside.” She put an arm around Louis’ waist and led him up the path to the entrance. “We’ve ordered drinks already. You’re good with a pint, aren’t you?” 

Louis nodded. He usually didn’t like people he didn’t know getting so close, but with Gemma he didn’t mind so much. Something about her was really comforting. “Brilliant,” he said. Over his shoulder, he checked for Harry. Instead, he saw a paparazzo taking pictures of them. 

Inside the pub, Harry showed up behind them, and Louis didn’t know why, but that made him feel calmer. He wondered if Harry knew when he took Louis’ hand, leading him over to one of the tables. 

“Harry!” A woman got up from her chair and held out her arms. “Hi, my baby.” 

Harry didn’t let go as he kissed his mother’s cheek and pulled her in with his free hand. “Hi, mum. It’s good to see you.” 

Harry did the same with the man, who Louis supposed was his father. They hugged tightly, and Harry received a clap on the back. Then he turned to pull Louis a little closer.

“That’s Louis,” Harry said. “I told you I’d bring him.” 

“Sorry it’s so sudden,” Louis said and shook hands with both of them. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your family time.” 

“Don’t worry about that, love. We’re happy to have you here,” Harry’s mother told him, taking his hand between both of hers. “I’m Anne.” 

They sat down, and Louis realised why Harry had held his hand the whole time when he spotted a few other guests taking pictures with their phones. He let go as soon as their hands disappeared beneath the table. 

For a moment, Louis got to withdraw from the conversation and just observe the dynamics. Harry talked about their travels through Europe and Anne looked fascinated by it. Gemma was the one asking the questions, while Robin was quietly listening and drinking his beer. 

“You live in Doncaster?” Gemma asked Louis after a while. 

“My family does,” he replied. “It's where I grew up. I moved to London when I started my career.” 

“Louis’s got six siblings,” Harry interfered. “They're a huge family. It's really nice.” 

“That's wonderful,” Anne said, beaming at Louis. “Are they older or younger?” 

“I'm the oldest. The youngest twins turn two in January.” Louis felt at ease with the topic. It wasn't anything he could trip over and embarrass himself. “I don't see them as often as I'd like to.”

“Harry probably enjoyed being there a little too much, then,” Gemma commented. “He's crazy for babies and toddlers.” 

Louis glanced at Harry. “I noticed. Why's that, anyway?” 

“Who knows,” Harry said and shrugged. “I guess I've always wanted children of my own. Since I don't have any yet, I'll have to take what I can get whenever there are kids around.” 

For a moment, Louis imagined Harry and Luke in that big house of Harry's in Hollywood with a bunch of children running around. He wondered if Harry and Luke had already talked about that. If they had talked at all since Harry had jetted off to Europe with Louis. Maybe Harry had been too busy to even text Luke. Maybe Harry had texted him every night, though. Maybe Harry had texted Luke after he had kissed Louis for show, telling him how it had meant nothing and that Luke was the only one he really wanted to kiss.  

Louis swallowed thickly, not sure why he felt sick suddenly. He had to get over that kiss, or else he'd get into serious trouble. 

Smiling, Louis shoved it aside, catching up on the conversation around him and acting like nothing was wrong. Nothing was, he reminded himself when he told Gemma about Barcelona. He was just tired, and confused, and Harry was in his space all the time. As soon as he'd be gone, those feelings would stop, too. 

Louis only had to be patient, and keep his feelings in check. He couldn't afford falling for Harry in any way. Even if falling was just physically. 

+++

Harry felt like time had gone by in a rush. They had only just arrived a few minutes ago, hadn’t they? It was impossible that they had spent more than three hours in this pub. Apparently, though, they had to leave soon since they had another four hour drive to London ahead of them. 

To Harry’s surprise, Louis seemed content and relaxed. He was witty with Gemma, sweet to Anne, and funny with Robin. He treated them the way he had treated his own family, and Harry wondered why he had never got to see that side of Louis before. Maybe their hostility towards each other had made both of them hide certain parts of their true selves. 

“If you stay longer, we should have dinner,” Anne said, touching Harry’s hand. “We can drive home and I’ll make something.” 

Harry sighed. “We should go. We’ve got an early start tomorrow and shouldn’t get back to London too late.” He turned to Louis. “Should we?” 

Louis hesitated for a moment. “It’s up to you. I wouldn’t want to cut your family time short. Whenever you’re ready.” 

Anne smiled fondly, and Harry could see that she liked Louis. It had only taken Louis a minute to win her over, and the same went for Gemma. Robin was so easy to get along with; Harry wasn’t sure there was a single person in the world he didn’t like. 

Strangely enough, Harry believed that Louis meant what he said; that he didn’t just say it to put on an act of being friendly with Harry. Louis was the kind of person who valued family, and time with his family. He wouldn’t rob anyone of that -- not even someone he couldn’t stand. 

“We should really be on our way,” Harry decided, squeezing Anne’s hand. 

“We’ll walk you to the car.” Anne got up from the chair and opened her purse. 

“Mum,” Harry simply said and put a hand on her arm. He shook his head and walked over to the counter to pay for their lunch. When he came back, Louis was helping Anne into her coat, and she was laughing about something. 

“Aren’t you going back to London today?” Harry asked Gemma when they walked outside. 

“I’ll stay another night before going back.” She wound her arm around Harry’s waist. They fell behind a little, which gave them some privacy. “Hey, H, you’re okay?” 

Harry didn’t nod instantly. He forced it after a moment, earning a pinch of his love handle. 

“Can’t we keep him?” Gemma sked. 

“He’s never as nice to me as he was to you today,” Harry told her. 

Gemma smiled. “Maybe because you’re not nice to him, either.” 

“Maybe.” Harry shrugged. 

“I think he’s lovely. Brilliant, even.” Gemma said it lowly, quietly. Like a secret. 

They reached the car where Louis was already getting out of his jacket. He put it in the backseat of the car and Harry watched Anne pull him into a tight hug after he had closed the door. 

“Drive safely,” she said. “You’ve got precious goods on board.” 

Louis chuckled, petting her back. “I’ll be careful.” He said goodbye to Robin and Gemma, too, hugging both of them briefly and exchanging well-wishes. 

Harry waited until Louis was in the car, grateful to get a bit of privacy to say goodbye. He hugged each of them for a long time, made a million promises to his mother, and fought with Gemma over whether she got to sleep in his old room tonight or not. 

He watched them walk off to their car and sighed, not ready to leave again when he had only been here for such little time. There wasn’t any choice, though, so he got into the passenger seat, closing the door behind himself. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. He wasn’t sure if he had to elaborate on what he thanked Louis for. 

When Louis said, “Don’t mention it,” Harry assumed he understood perfectly well what Harry was on about. 

Until they were out of town, they sat in silence again. The radio was playing in the background, but neither of them said anything. Harry wasn’t sure what to talk about, anyway. 

“Your family is nice,” Louis said out of the blue. 

“Um.” Harry cleared his throat. “Thanks. So is yours.” 

Louis smiled, glancing into the rearview mirror. “You got along with them. I meant to say thanks for looking after the twins.” 

Harry shook his head. “It’s my pleasure. They’re really cute.” 

“Aren’t they?” Louis sounded fond, and Harry understood why he did. 

“I get now why you try to go back to London as much as you can,” Harry said. “I feel like I left the house like I would have if I’d taken any normal job in London. My sister left, too. It’s what kids do when they grow up, right?” 

Louis hummed and nodded his head. 

“With younger siblings, though, there’s so much you miss?” Harry fiddled with the heating, turning it down a little. “If you’re gone for too long, you’re not part of their lives anymore, and that’s a scary thought.” 

For a while, Louis was quiet, and Harry feared he’d gone too far. Then Louis nodded his head. “Exactly.” 

Harry didn’t know what else to say. He was just glad they could have a serious, honest conversation without one of them snapping. That had taken them long enough. Harry wouldn’t gamble on it. 

When the DJ on the radio stopped talking and played the next song, Harry needed a moment to recognise it. When he did, he sat up and turned up the volume. 

“I love this song,” they both said at the same time. 

Harry blinked at Louis, not sure he had heard right. Louis took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Harry, confusion written all over his face. 

“You don’t,” he said. 

Harry frowned. “Any Backstreet Boys is always a classic.” 

“It doesn’t suit you,” Louis pointed out. 

“Not that again.” 

Louis smiled, and it didn’t look annoyed or mean, just genuinely amused. “It’s just that you’re the kind of person who’s into hipster bands no one’s ever heard of.” 

“I may be,” Harry admitted. Louis wasn’t wrong, after all. “I just happen to have a broad taste in music. I don’t just like one thing.” 

“I guess.” Louis tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, quietly singing along. 

“You’ve got a nice voice.” It was out before Harry could think better of it. 

Louis laughed, and immediately stopped singing. “Nah. I just enjoy it a lot. You should hear me in the shower. It’s awfully off-key.” 

“I bet it’s not.” Harry smirked. “But I probably won’t ever find out.” 

“Probably not.” Louis kept his eyes straight on the road. 

Harry wondered if his mind wandered in the same direction as Harry’s did right now. Louis hadn’t shown any signs that the kiss had affected him. He had just gone through with it like he probably had with any other staged kiss in his life. 

Harry had lain awake all night, thinking about it. It had been easy for Louis, and at first, Harry had thought it was easy for him, too. Yet, there was this strange physical attraction to Louis, and that had messed up everything. 

For the first time in his career, Harry had actually felt something after stage kissing someone. The feeling had been a little too pleasant. He had wanted to kiss Louis again, explore that mouth with his tongue, slowly open it up and sink deeper. 

It hadn’t been supposed to go that way, and Harry had needed all night to come to terms with it. He had told himself over and over again that it was nothing. After all, he couldn’t even stand Louis, so why should he feel attracted to him. 

Yet, after this weekend, Harry wondered if that was even the truth. Maybe it hadn’t been the truth for the past week. There was a lot he liked about Louis, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

Harry didn’t want to think about that, though. It’d definitely make everything even more complicated. If he just ignored it, it probably wouldn’t matter in the long run. In January, this would be over, and he’d forget about Louis. 

He couldn’t let something like this ruin his plans with Luke. Not after he had patiently waited for so long. He’d been in love with Luke for years, and now that he was finally free, and even ready to date Harry, Harry couldn’t possibly start something much less meaningful. Not based on simple physical attraction. 

“Have you talked to Luke recently?” Louis asked suddenly. 

Harry’s heart missed a beat and he wondered if Louis could read his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “We’ve both been busy.” 

“Ah.” Louis nodded. “Well. You’ve got January, right?” 

“Right.” Harry laced his fingers, not sure where to put his hands. “We’ll figure it out.”

They kept up a quiet conversation throughout the ride, falling into comfortable silence in between. Harry changed the radio stations every other minute, but Louis didn’t complain. 

Shortly before they made it into London, Louis glanced at Harry, turning the volume of the radio down. “Where should I drop you off?” 

“Oh.” Harry sat up in the seat, trying to stretch his legs a little. “I’m just gonna stay at a hotel.” 

Louis frowned. “Don’t you have a house or a flat in London?” 

“Not anymore.” Harry shrugged. “I stay in L.A. most of the time. When I come here, I stay with my family up north or crash at my sister’s.” 

For a moment, Louis didn’t reply. He seemed hesitant about what he wanted to say. “Have you booked a room yet?” 

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Just drop me off at the Four Seasons. They always have a suite available.” 

“I’ve got a car picking me up in the morning,” Louis said, and Harry wasn’t sure where he was going with that. 

“Okay?” 

“I mean. It’s all handled and set.” Louis shrugged, not even glancing at Harry anymore. “It’ll save them sending out another car to pick you up, too.” 

Harry frowned, still not sure what Louis was on about, until it clicked. “You want me to stay at yours?” 

Louis didn’t look happy about it. “It’d make sense. We have to be at the same place in the morning, anyway.” 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I mean. Thanks for offering, but you know you don’t have to do that, right?” 

“I know,” Louis replied, nodding stiffly. “But I’ve got a perfectly fine guest room in my house. I wouldn’t mind.” 

Harry pondered it for a minute. He could refuse -- but was afraid that’d set back every bit of progress they had made over the past week. That was something he didn’t want to risk. 

“Okay,” he said. “That’d be really nice. Thanks.” 

Louis nodded, staring ahead at the road. “No problem.” 

+++

“And that’s the bathroom,” Louis said, opening a door to an ensuite. “My sisters usually use it when they’re here, so there’s shampoo and stuff. Use whatever you need.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, looking into the spacious bathroom. He was tempted to take a long bath after that drive down here. He felt like he had been cramped into a shoebox for several hours. 

“I have tea and coffee in the kitchen, but i usually get some breakfast on the way.” Louis shrugged. “Hope that’s okay with you.” 

“All good.” Harry set down his bag next to the big bed in the middle of the room. 

“Great.” Louis went for the door. “Let’s have dinner, then.” 

Harry followed him back to the kitchen, taking in that there were at least four more rooms they passed. Louis had already told him that the house had a room for every member of his family, and that there was a training pitch in the backyard. The house didn’t just seem huge. It actually  _ was _ huge. 

On their way, they had stopped at a takeaway place for some food. Louis had chosen Indian and Harry had something Thai. They put the food on plates and Louis sat down at the table first, gesturing for Harry to join him. 

“Hey,” Louis said, and when Harry looked up from his food, Louis took a picture with his mobile. 

“What’s that about?” Harry frowned. 

“For my Instagram.” Louis shrugged. “That’s always easier than putting up pictures of us together. It gets the message across. We’re together.” 

“I probably look awful in that picture,” Harry complained, taking another spoonful of rice. 

“Who cares? I’ll put a nice filter over it.” 

Harry snorted. “Lovely.” 

“You wanna take one together instead?” Louis asked, raising a brow. 

“Rather not.” 

They finished their dinner and Louis leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs. “There’s a telly in the room if you want to watch something. I think I’m just gonna head to bed, if you don’t mind.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Harry said, getting up to take the plates to the sink. “I’ll just head to bed myself.” 

“If you need anything, feel at home and take whatever you need.” Louis gestured around the kitchen. “Even if there’s not much.” 

Harry smiled, nodding. “I’m good. Thanks.” 

They left the kitchen together and Louis turned off the lights. “Good night, Styles.” 

“Night,” Harry replied, watching Louis walk off in the different direction. 

He went to his room and stripped out of his clothes. Too tired for a bath, he stepped in the shower instead, letting the hot water soothe his muscles. He washed his hair and smiled at the vanilla and strawberry scent, guessing it was probably Fizzy’s. It just seemed to suit her. 

In the bedroom he draped the towel over a chair and pulled on a clean pair of boxer shorts. He looked at the bed that was covered with cushions and blankets, and realised that as soon as he was in there, he wouldn’t get up again. 

On his tiptoes, he left the room again, trying to make no sound. He found the kitchen without turning the lights on and quietly looked through the cupboards until he had found glasses. He filled one with tap water and tiptoed back as quietly as he had come. 

Just outside the kitchen, he bumped into Louis, dropping the glass. It didn’t break, but it made a dull noise, the water spilling all over the floor. He stumbled against the wall, Louis pressed to his front. His cheek was glued against Harry’s chest and his fingers dug into Harry’s hips, where they had grabbed him to find something to hold on to. 

Harry didn’t dare make a sound. He didn’t even dare breathe. 

“What the fuck,” Louis mumbled and detached himself from Harry. 

“Sorry-- Sorry,” Harry choked out. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he wore nothing but boxer shorts. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Louis stepped back. For some odd reason, Harry wanted to reach out and pull him back in. 

“I just got a glass of water. I sometimes wake up and get thirsty, so I thought before I have to get up in the night, I just get a glass now. Then I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night.” Harry was aware that he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Why would you do that?” Louis asked, and Harry couldn’t see his face in the darkness of the corridor. There was no window, no light to illuminate anything. He sounded irritated.

“You told me to feel at home,” Harry reminded him, not sure why exactly Louis was so angry. 

Louis huffed out a breath. “God, you’re so annoying.” 

For a moment, time felt suspended, and Harry felt his heart beat up in his throat. His feet were wet and his fingers felt numb. “Am I?” 

“Of course you are,” Louis replied instantly. There was something in his voice; a slight tremor. 

“Louis,” Harry said, and he didn’t know what he was doing when he reached out for Louis’ arm. “Am I?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis blurted out, suddenly sounding so much more confused. “You’re irritating. Why are you half-naked? How am I supposed to keep it together when you’re half-naked? It’s bloody irritating, for--” 

Those were all the reasons Harry needed. He pulled Louis in again, and shut him up by sealing Louis’ lips with his own. For a moment, time froze, everything stopped, and Harry was afraid Louis would push him away, would scream at him and dash off. Afraid that he had read the signs wrong. 

Then, Louis lifted one arm and wound it around Harry’s neck to pull him closer. Harry released a stuttered breath into Louis’ mouth, tilting his head. He couldn’t stop himself from going all in. There was no gentleness or soft warm-up. Harry ran his tongue over Louis’ bottom lip, and when Louis nudged his against Harry’s, that was all the invitation he needed. Slick noises filled the room when Harry pressed Louis up against the wall, shoving one leg between Louis’. He reacted with a groan, a sigh, an ever-so-slight thrust of his hips. Louis ran his hands up into Harry’s damp hair, pulling his face impossibly closer, still making those sweet, sweet noises. He wore boxer shorts, and the skin of his legs was hot against Harry’s. 

When they both pulled back for breath, Harry’s head cleared and he realised what he was doing -- what  _ they _ were doing. He thought of all the reasons he had listed for himself why something like this couldn’t happen. 

He thought of Luke. 

Louis’ eyes cleared, too, and he stared at Harry in disbelief for a second, then he pulled back like he had burned himself. He pressed a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Harry could barely make them out in the dark.

“Louis, I’m--” 

“Forget this happened,” Louis said, taking a few steps back. He stumbled over the glass, but didn’t bother picking it up. “Forget I did this.” 

Harry watched him flee; flee like this was a crime scene and he had been caught in the act. He didn’t go after Louis, not sure what he should say, anyway. Instead, he stayed where he was, lifting his fingers to his bottom lip. He still had Louis’ taste on his tongue, and his heart was beating wildly. 

Louis was right. They had to forget about this. This was something that couldn’t happen. Not when for Harry, there was the perspective of a real, stable relationship after this. He and Louis could never be anything like that, so what was the point of fooling around? 

Harry inhaled, trying to calm his body down, failing to make his heart beat in a normal rhythm. He still felt Louis’ lips on his, still felt their skin burning up against each other, still smelled the shampoo Louis had used, still tasted him. His heart just wouldn’t calm down.

From just a single kiss. 

===

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <33 
> 
> Chapter 6 will be up in two weeks time, so you'll have to be a little more patient this time around! I'm sorry!!


	6. Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it!!! Here we go, it's a monster chapter, but it's got all the niiiiceee stuff! 
> 
> Enjoy the read!

 

Louis slowly woke up to gentle hands pressing his hips into the mattress. His cock was hard,  throbbing painfully, and Louis felt needy for those hands to move just a few inches and release him. Warm lips pressed against his neck, lashes swiping against his jaw in the process. 

Sighing, Louis lifted his hands, running them up smooth skin to broad shoulders, sinking into wild curls. A chuckle tickled his skin, moist breath ghosting against Louis’ hammering pulse. He gripped the curls a little rougher and yanked those lips up to his own. 

There was no hesitation, no resistance. Their lips slotted together instantly, smoothly. Louis opened his mouth, drunk on the feeling. He was obsessed with those pretty lips, with that sinful mouth. He kissed like his life depended on it, receiving the same in return. The room was quiet except for the rustling of the sheets and the slick, wet noises of the kiss. 

Finally,  _ finally _ , one of the hands moved from his hips and brushed over his thigh. Louis shivered. 

“I wanna suck you off, baby. Wanna get my mouth on you.” 

Louis whined deep in his throat, hips thrusting up. A grin pressed against his lips, swallowing his needy, little noises. If he didn’t get those perfect, plush lips on his cock right now, Louis was sure he’d die on the spot. 

He breathed in, unable to make a sound. He was falling apart with want. “Harry, please.” 

Louis’ eyes flew open, and he exhaled on a shaky breath. His heart was stammering in his chest and his cock was throbbing, painfully hard. He was sweaty and hot all over, fingers curled into the sheets of the hotel bed. 

Not again, bloody hell. Louis threw an arm over his face, groaning and trying to will down his erection. He’d had this dream  every night for the past week. And sometimes during the day, too.  

That kiss had fucked him up. Bad. It was like he had tasted blood, and now his body longed for more, begging for just one more shot. Like a drug he had tried once, and immediately got addicted to. 

He didn't even want to start thinking about that it was Harry Styles who was the protagonist in those dreams. Being sexually frustrated, being horny all the time was bad enough. Being horny for Harry Styles made it ten times worse, though. 

Blinking into the morning sun, Louis sat up, hissing. It was still early, and it looked like it was going to be another warm, sunny day in Sydney. It had been over twenty degrees when they had arrived the day before, and it looked like today wouldn't be different. 

Right after their arrival, Louis had retreated to his hotel room. Every minute he had to spend around Harry was physically straining for him. It was enough that he had to sit next to Harry for every interview and pretend he wasn't on the edge of breaking. 

After the kiss, Louis had lain awake all night, beating himself up over it. He had been scared of how to deal with it once morning came around. He had stayed in his bedroom until the car had come to pick them up. During the drive, neither of them had said a single word, and Louis had found a little comfort in Harry looking just as tired and exhausted as him.  

For the interviews, they had both put on a professional mask. On air, nothing had seemed off, but as soon as they had left the building again, Louis had brought as much space between them as possible. Harry had seemed content with that, keeping a distance as well. 

For the past week, it had gone on like this. For Louis, it got harder with every day, but he couldn’t come up with a way out, anything that’d pose as a solution to his misery. If he had a way to get away from Harry, he'd probably get over it, but as it was, he was reminded of what had happened every single day. 

Louis had to admit defeat. His body was a traitor. 

He got out of bed, and stumbled straight into the bathroom to take a shower. Beneath the hot spray, he took care of his hard-on, head tilted back against the tiles, eyes glued to a spot on the ceiling. He knew that if he closed his eyes, he’d see Harry. 

After his shower, Louis called room service for breakfast, then he got dressed. They’d have another round of interviews together before they’d mix it up with the rest of the cast in the afternoon. They had done that in London, too, and Louis had taken it as a welcome alternation from always sitting through the interviews with the same person. 

If anyone profited from the tension between Harry and Louis, it was Julia. She was on top of her game, following the trends on the internet, and always pointing out to them which steps had worked particularly well. 

“Louis, love,” she had said in Moscow after their first day of interviews. “You’re doing so well. Listen to this.” She had cleared her voice before reading something from her tablet. “They’re so in love, they can’t even take their eyes off each other. And we can’t take our eyes off them. As several fans have pointed out, Louis was practically glued to Harry’s lips, and we can only imagine how that ended when the cameras weren’t rolling anymore.” 

Louis had choked on his lunch, coughing so hard, Oli had started to panic he’d suffocate. Upon glancing at Harry, Louis had found him very still, his lips forming a thin line. Thinking about it now, it had probably been the last time Louis had properly looked at Harry. 

They should probably talk about it. Louis had thought that through several times. Talking about it meant admitting it, and Louis wasn’t sure he was ready to admit in front of Harry -- to Harry -- that he was attracted to him. There was no doubt that Harry had initiated it, but Louis hadn’t done anything to stop him. Instead, he had responded to it. 

A knock on the door tore him from his thoughts and Louis went over to let the waiter in. He placed a tray on the table, preparing everything for Louis. When there was another knock, Louis frowned and turned to open the door again. 

“Morning, Lou,” Oli said, coming in. 

The waiter took his leave and Louis closed the door again. “Morning.” 

“Look what I’ve got.” Oli held up a sheet of paper with a list on it. 

“What’s that?” Louis went back to the table to eat his breakfast before it’d turn cold. 

Oli sat down, too, and stole a slice of apple from Louis’ plate. “Liam’s team contacted me. He’s playing a gig here tomorrow night. We’re all on the guest list.” 

Louis looked up, and for a moment, he felt like crying. He hadn’t known they were in the same city, but Liam always had tabs on those things. He took care of Louis, and he’d be the one to put Louis out of his misery. There was no doubt Liam would help him out of it. 

“He’s busy with interviews and such today, but sent a message that he expects you backstage before the show tomorrow.” Oli grinned. “You can bring friends, if you like.” 

“Subtle, mate,” Louis commented. “I’ll text him.” 

Oli hummed. “Julia said it’d be a good opportunity to be seen with Harry. It’s Liam’s last concert for this leg of the tour, so there’ll be an aftershow party.” 

“We can take other people, too, right?” Louis asked. “It won’t be just me and him.” 

“Did anything happen?” Oli frowned at him, crossing his arms. “You two seem off.” 

Louis swallowed and took a sip from his tea. Oli was not the right person to talk to about this. He’d get the wrong idea. “No, nothing.” 

“I had a feeling you two started to get along better,” Oli said. “But it seems you don’t talk to him at all anymore.” 

“He doesn’t talk to me, either,” Louis pointed out, cutting some bacon. “It’s not just me.” 

Oli shrugged, dropping the topic. Louis was grateful for that since he had no idea how to explain himself. Putting it on Harry was easy, but he also knew that he couldn’t do that for too long. It wasn’t on Harry alone, after all. 

“You’ve got another ten minutes, then we should go over to Harry’s room for the interviews.” Oli got up from the table and took out his mobile. He started typing something. “We’ve got another room for the interviews with the whole cast in the afternoon.”

So, for the morning, Louis would be chained to Harry again. Another round of pretending he enjoyed Harry’s company, of pretending being in love with Harry. Louis started to feel numb to those antics. 

He finished his breakfast, not looking forward to the day a single bit. 

+++

Harry stayed behind Louis when they were led through a back door of the arena by one of Liam’s assistants. A few fans had been lurking outside, probably waiting for Liam to show up. They had recognised Louis in an instant, so it wouldn’t stay a secret for long that Louis and Harry were here. 

Inside, they were thrown right into busy preparations for Liam’s gig. The opening act was already on stage, their music a muffled noise through thick walls. Several people were pushing props and boxes along the corridor, some people had lists that made them look important when they ticked something off of them, while others carried clothes and bags that they disappeared with into various rooms. Harry made sure to stay out of their way. 

“Liam awaits you in his dressing room,” Liam’s assistant said to Louis. 

“Thanks, Andy.” Louis patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. 

Harry suspected they had met before. Louis didn’t turn around and acknowledge Harry even once before he made his way further down the corridor. Taking a moment to thank Andy, too, Harry lost sight of Louis; that was how quickly he was gone.  

It wasn’t like Harry was surprised. Louis hadn’t acknowledged him once since their encounter in Louis’ house. It had been awkward ever since, and Harry knew it was his fault things had become like this. He had been the one to initiate the kiss. 

The kiss that slowly drove Harry crazy. For the first few days, he had gone insane with how much he had wanted to do it again. It had been hard to accept, but he felt attracted to Louis -- Harry had to admit that to himself at least. He had felt awful, but then he had realised why. 

Louis and Luke weren’t too different, at least in physical appearance. They were both small, almost dainty, and nicely built; all trained, and yet curvy. It seemed like Harry had a type, and unfortunately, Louis Tomlinson fit that type. That had calmed Harry down a little. It was simply physical attraction; something he could easily ignore. 

When he came into the dressing room, he saw Louis and Liam drawing away from a hug. As he spotted Harry, Liam left an arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him against his side. He had a nice smile, looking completely genuine as he extended his other hand for Harry. 

“I’m glad you could make it, too,” he said. 

Harry took Liam’s hand. “Thanks for the invitation.” 

“No worries.” Liam led them over to the sofa. “Any friend of Lou’s is my friend, too.” 

Sitting down, Harry glanced at Louis. He looked a little uncertain. 

Liam sighed. “So you two didn’t get it together yet?” 

“There’s nothing to get together,” Louis replied, leaning back. “It’s work.” 

“There’s no reason to be so hostile, even if it’s only work.” Liam lifted a brow. 

Harry looked at his shoes, fully aware that Liam was right. Then again, Liam didn’t know the whole story. He had no idea that it wasn’t only hostility that made them act this way. 

“We’ve come to an arrangement,” Louis said. “And as long as it works in front of the cameras, it’s all fine, isn’t it?” 

Harry wondered what kind of arrangement he was talking about. Whatever unspoken arrangement they had come to before, had been cancelled out the moment they had kissed. The second time. Harry remembered the first kiss, the one they had staged for Louis’ sisters. In comparison, it seemed dull now. Harry knew now what Louis really kissed like, what he really tasted like, what he really sounded like. 

God, those noises had been the worst. Harry couldn’t get them out of his mind; heard them every time he closed his eyes. His blood was constantly running hot at the thought of how much louder, how much needier Harry could make Louis sound. 

“Harry?” 

He looked up, his cheeks feeling hot. Liam had his head tilted, holding out a bottle for Harry. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, swallowing thickly as he took the bottle. He glanced at Louis again, and when their eyes met, he saw that Louis had a frown etched between his brows. He probably knew exactly where Harry’s mind had wandered off to. 

“Are you good to go out tonight?” Liam asked. 

Harry tore his eyes from Louis. He hadn’t been out in a while, but getting a little drunk didn’t sound too bad right now. He’d probably even pick up someone to release some steam. It wasn’t something he usually did, and with Luke in the picture, Harry hadn’t wanted to get involved in a one-night stand. Recent circumstances had changed his mind a little, though. 

If it meant he’d stop losing his breath each time Louis so much as brushed against him, Harry was more than up for it. 

“Sure,” he replied, smiling. “I heard it’s your last concert?” 

Liam nodded. “For this leg of the tour, at least. I’ll go on tour in Europe in January.” 

“Are you in the States for the Jingle Ball events next month?” Louis asked.

“Playing six or seven.” Liam threw an arm over the backrest of the sofa, hand coming to rest at the back of Louis’ neck. “Maybe we’ll get a few days together at mine.” 

“I’d like that.” Louis didn’t look a single bit uncomfortable with Liam’s touch. “I get lonely when I’m all by myself in your big villa.” 

Harry remembered that he had wondered about the nature of their relationship before. They seemed close, even intimate with each other. The way Liam touched Louis, and the way Louis leaned into it implied that they were more than just friends. 

Harry tried to ignore the sudden urge to reach out for Louis and break up their contact. That feeling was completely unfounded and irrational, though. Harry had no right to do that. Liam had probably kissed Louis a million times more than Harry. And Louis obviously liked him, which gave Liam another advantage. 

Harry frowned. He thought about this as if it was a competition; as if Harry had any interest in Louis. Which he didn’t have. 

He ignored the trembling of his hands when he opened his bottle and tried not to listen to what Louis and Liam were talking about. Whatever was happening here, it was driving him insane. All Harry wanted was for things to go back to normal again and for his heart to only pick up speed when thinking of Luke. 

“Hey! I'm sorry I'm late!” Zayn came into the room, looking a little rushed. 

Liam was on his feet in an instant. “No worries. I'm glad you could make it.” 

Zayn went for a casual hug, then he shook Louis and Harry’s hands. “Nice seeing you again.” 

“Same. Liam didn't say anything about you coming, too.” Louis didn't even look at Zayn. His eyes were glued to Liam. 

Harry frowned slightly. That was some blatant display of jealousy. 

“If you’d text every now or then, you’d have known,” Liam replied, handing Zayn a bottle, too. 

“How do you know each other?” Harry asked. 

“Liam performed at a fashion show in spring.” Zayn sat down across from them. “We started talking, and just, got along really well?” 

Liam nodded, taking a bottle of water for himself. “We met at a few other events after that. Now we’re here.” 

Louis hummed, as if he had heard the most interesting thing right there. Harry frowned at him, but Louis ignored it -- just like he had ignored Harry for the past week. It was probably going to stay like that until their contract was over in January. 

“Liam,” someone said from the door and Harry saw the man from before come in. “Katelyn would like to see you now.” 

“Thanks, Andy.” Liam got up, a hand resting on Zayn’s shoulder. “I’ll be there in a moment.” 

Andy nodded and walked out of the room again, leaving the door open. Liam turned back around to them, but left his hand on Zayn’s shoulder. 

“That’s my vocal coach,” he said. “You guys can just stay here until the concert starts. You know where your seats are, right?” 

“We’re fine,” Louis replied, making a gesture with his hand. “Go. Don’t miss that vocal training. We don’t want you to sing awfully tonight. I’ll want my money back.” 

Liam snorted. “You didn’t even pay.” 

“Whatever.” Louis grinned. “Go.” 

For another second, Liam hesitated, then he took his hand off Zayn’s shoulder and walked to the door. He turned once more, just glancing back before he left the room. Awkward silence settled, and Harry looked between Zayn and Louis, wondering if he should start a conversation. He didn’t have a clue what to talk about, though. He didn’t know Zayn well enough, and he and Louis didn’t talk anymore. 

“So,” Louis said suddenly, leaning back on the sofa. “Zayn.” 

Tilting his head, Zayn seemed completely unfazed. “Yes?” 

“What’s really going on here?” Louis asked. 

“What are you on about?” 

Louis crossed his legs. “There’s more going on between the two of you.” 

With a bemused smile, Zayn took a sip from his bottle. “I could say the same about you and him.” 

He wasn’t wrong about that. Harry glanced from Zayn to Louis, wondering how he’d react. 

“Since you’re the one sleeping with him, I’d say you are aware that Liam and I are just friends,” Louis said, and just like Zayn he didn’t look fazed. 

“Who says that just because he sleeps with me, he can’t sleep with you?” Zayn asked. 

Louis was quiet for a moment, his brows raised in a sceptical gaze. “Are you seriously asking?” 

Zayn smiled, slightly shaking his head. “Nah. I guess we both know he wouldn’t.” 

“He wouldn’t,” Louis agreed. 

Harry pressed his lips together, ignoring the rush of relief in his chest. There was no reason to feel relieved. It was none of his business who Louis slept with. 

“Anyway.” Louis leaned forwards, resting his arms on his knees. “I like you. You can stay.” 

“How gracious of you.” Zayn raised a brow. “Maybe I’ll let you stay, too.” 

Louis laughed. “I was here first.” 

“You,” Zayn said and pointed at Harry, “can stay. I’ve already made up my mind about that.” 

Harry couldn’t help but grin. “What an honour.” 

“He didn’t do anything for it,” Louis complained. 

Harry turned to Louis. “I didn’t put him on the spot.” 

“You wouldn’t have a reason to look after Liam.” Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“Maybe Harry’s got a reason to look after you,” Zayn said. 

Harry felt Louis tense up next to him, and he felt himself tense up, too. He stared at Zayn, not sure what to answer. 

“Or are you not dating for PR anymore?” Zayn blinked, looking confused. 

“Still are,” Louis confirmed, sounding a little hesitant about it. He probably was just as sceptic as Harry was about where Zayn was going with this. 

Zayn nodded, looking at them as if that made everything crystal clear. “It’d be bad for business if anyone thought you had something going on with Liam, wouldn’t it?”  

Harry turned to Louis, pointing at him. “I told you people would get the wrong idea about you two living together!” 

“I only stay at his from time to time.” Louis rolled his eyes. “That’s nothing.” 

“It could be taken the wrong way, though,” Harry argued. He held Louis’ gaze, his stomach curling with the intensity of Louis’ stare. 

“Everyone knows we’re best friends.”

“Just as long as it stays secret that Liam’s gay,” Zayn agreed. 

Harry expected Louis to give a comment about that, but he stayed silent. Instead, he turned to Zayn and directed that stare at him, as if he tried to look through Zayn. Harry wasn’t sure what that was about, but he could see that Zayn understood what was going on in Louis’ mind. 

Not prodding the topic further, Zayn got up. “We should get to our seats.” 

Harry followed, glancing at Louis who seemed completely normal again. The frown was gone, and he caught up with Zayn, engaging him in a light conversation. Harry wondered what was going on behind those bright blue eyes. He couldn’t read Louis, didn’t understand how his mind worked, and had no idea what to make of him. And yet, strangely enough, Harry felt close to him in an odd sense; as if there was a part of Louis he understood perfectly well. There was that tiny part Harry had seen through, and it captivated him, didn’t let him go anymore. 

Oli came around the corner, stopping Zayn and Louis. When he spotted Harry, he gestured for him to join them. Harry stopped behind Louis, leaving enough space between them that he wouldn’t get too close. 

“There’s a bunch of journalists in our section,” Oli said. “Guess that means you won’t get a break from acting as a couple tonight.” 

“I guess,” Louis replied dryly. “When do I ever get a break?” 

Oli rolled his eyes. “Just make sure you act couple-y.” 

When Harry turned his face to Louis, he caught him pulling a grimace. Oli went ahead and Zayn followed him, hands in the pockets of his jeans. Harry could hear commotion from the audience. 

Taking a deep breath, he held out his hand for Louis. For a moment, Louis simply stared at it, then he inhaled visibly, glancing at Harry once, before he put his hand in Harry’s. It was warm and his fingers were slender but firm when he laced them with Harry’s. Some strange feeling spread from Harry’s fingertips, all the way up his arm, to his chest. 

It was the first time Harry had touched Louis since the kiss. 

When they left the backstage area to get to their seats, there was another furore in the audience. Harry had found out by now that Liam’s fans were very well aware of his and Louis’ friendship, and thus, always recognised Louis. Some girls were shouting their names, and when Harry looked up, he saw them pointing their mobile phones at them. 

Louis pushed Harry ahead gently, one hand at the small of Harry’s back. He stayed behind Harry, leading him up a staircase, and Harry wondered if it was just Louis’ nature to protect people. Harry had observed him being protective with his family, with the people he cared for -- it confused him to see Louis act that way around him. 

The frenzy continued when they reached the balcony. There was a bunch of journalists who all got their cameras out, flashlights hitting Harry in the face. Again, Louis gently urged him forwards, until they could join their crew that shielded them from a few curious eyes. 

“Aren’t you two sweet?” Barbara asked, patting Harry’s arm. “They’re buying every bit of it.” 

Harry gave her an unimpressed look, and heard Louis snort behind him. They still stood side by side, but had their backs to each other. 

“Just holding hands for a few minutes,” Louis said, “doesn’t sell much.” 

Harry frowned slightly, and Louis picked up his conversation with Zayn again. Barbara tilted her head, giving Harry a questioning look. 

“Why’s he that snarky today?” she asked. 

Harry shrugged, mainly because he actually had no answer to that -- at least none he could say out loud. Did Louis  _ want  _ them to interact more? Did Louis  _ want _ them to put on more of an act? He had ignored Harry for the past week, had brought a distance between them whenever it had been possible.  _ He _ had been the one to run away after they had kissed. 

What the bloody hell did he want from Harry?

Well, if Louis wanted them to do more than just holding hands, he could certainly have. Harry could sell this relationship to a point where every single doubt about it would be erased in an instant. 

He changed his position slightly, keeping up his conversation with Barbara and casually slung an arm around Louis’ waist. Louis froze, remarkably tensing up, but he didn’t fight it. Harry rested his hand on Louis’ hip, hooking his thumb through a belt loop of the jeans Louis wore. 

It took a moment for Louis to adjust, and Harry’s heart beat up in his throat. Louis was professional, though, didn’t make a scene. Instead, he relaxed against Harry’s side. 

A member of staff came onto the balcony, handing all of them drinks. Harry took a plastic cup with beer and handed it to Louis before he took one for himself. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Harry had to check twice, taking a second glance, because Louis’ cheeks were flushed red. 

In that moment, the lights went out, and music started to play. The crowd around them went crazy, screams filling the arena. Harry had to tear his eyes from Louis’ face, pretending he hadn’t noticed. Pretending he didn’t care. 

Liam came on stage, and the screams got even louder. Harry looked around and saw the audience go wild. Barbara was clapping next to him, Oli and Paul were drinking their beer, watching on with interest. Zayn had his hands in his pockets and his eyes glued to Liam. 

He opened the concert with an uptempo song. Harry thought he’d heard it before, but he had to admit he wasn’t too familiar with Liam’s music. He knew the songs that were played on the radio. He sounded good live, had a clear voice and a good stage presence. Harry smiled when Liam ran from one side of the stage to the other, making the crowd sing along. 

Louis was singing along, too. He was bouncing slightly next to Harry, drinking from his beer and singing some parts of the song. Harry could barely hear him, but he could feel the slight tremor of Louis’ voice against his side. 

“This one’s my favourite,” Barbara said after a while, when Liam had played for a good hour. 

Louis lifted his cup in a toast. They had been served more beer a few songs ago. “It’s mine, too.” 

By now, Louis stood more in front of Harry than next to him. Harry looked over Louis’ shoulder, making out Liam’s form on stage. He was sitting down on a stool, a mic stand in front of him. Louis was slightly swaying, cutting Harry’s view every other second, so Harry put a hand on Louis’ hip to steady him. 

Louis immediately stopped moving, and a moment later, his back touched Harry’s chest. He leaned his head back against Harry’s shoulder and pulled Harry’s hand from his hip around his middle. Harry inhaled shakily, then he rested his chin on Louis’ shoulder. 

A sweet love song filled the arena, words of love, regret and apology. Longing. There was a lot of longing for that one person in that song. It pulled at Harry’s heartstrings, and he wondered why that song touched him so much. 

With Louis in his arms, his scent of faint cologne and herbal soap engulfing Harry, his body seamlessly curving against Harry’s, Harry thought of Luke. Somehow, he hadn’t thought of Luke that much in the past week. His mind had been occupied with Louis, every cell in Harry’s body had been focused on that kiss, and how much he had wanted more of it. 

Holding Louis now seemed so effortless. For a moment, he had got lost in that song and the feeling, and holding Louis had felt natural. Harry had no idea when that had happened, when pretending had become so easy. There was something about Louis that just made it that easy. 

The song ended, and for a moment, the arena was quiet before the screams and applause took over again. Liam looked up, and Harry thought that he was looking in their general direction, smiling for a moment.

“I wanna perform a new song,” Liam announced as it had quietened down again. “I haven’t even recorded it yet. But tonight is my last concert for a while, and I’d like for you guys to hear it.” 

The audience went absolutely crazy with those words. It took a moment before it was quiet enough that the music could start playing. Liam glanced up again, and Harry frowned, pretty sure that this time, his gaze had definitely been directed at them. 

When Liam started singing, he realised that it hadn’t been the people up here he had been looking at. It had been Zayn. He had solely checked on Zayn, and if Zayn was paying attention. 

Louis tensed in Harry’s arms, and Harry could see his knuckles turn white from how he clung to the barrier. He muttered something under his breath Harry couldn’t understand, but Liam’s text was clear -- left no doubt. 

He sang about being caged, being ruled, losing his own will. He sang about only feeling whole and free with that one person. 

Harry dared looking at Zayn, finding him gaping at Liam, openly gaping. He didn’t even blink once, and his cheeks were red, his fingers digging into the plastic of his cup. He seemed shocked, but not flattered. 

When the song ended, Liam didn’t look up again. Instead, he smoothly introduced the next song and acted like nothing had happened. Louis was still a little tense, and Zayn’s expression hadn’t changed. 

Harry bit his lip, not sure Liam had done the right thing there. Whatever was going on between him and Zayn, Zayn didn’t seem to want love songs written about him, and didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture. 

Whatever their agreement was in the kind of relationship they shared, it seemed they weren’t on the same page. 

+++

He had to get to Liam before anyone else did. Especially Zayn. Louis had to get to Liam before Zayn could. Otherwise, this would end in a disaster. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Harry asked, following him. “He hasn’t even finished the last song yet.” 

Louis didn’t have time to deal with Harry right now. He had only taken him along because he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea had he just run off that balcony without Harry. And maybe Harry could be of use in this, too. 

“I need your help, okay?” Louis turned to him. “As soon as Liam comes down here, I need to talk to him alone. Don’t let anyone in.” 

Harry blinked at him. “Was that song about you after all?” 

“What the--” Louis gestured between them. “Have you been there? I mean, as far as I remember you were there right with me when he practically stared at Zayn before he started that song.” 

It took a moment, but then, Harry nodded. 

“I need some time with Liam alone, so don’t let anyone in.” Louis took a step closer to him. “Especially not Zayn.” 

Harry tilted his head. “Isn’t that what bodyguards and assistants are for?” 

“God’s sake, Styles,” Louis groaned, rolling his eyes. “Will you help me or not?” 

“Okay, yeah.” Harry crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely, though.” 

Louis couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips. “Would you please help me out here?” 

“My pleasure,” Harry replied, smirking. 

God, Louis really couldn’t afford thinking about Harry right now. Every dam had broken when Harry had taken his hand earlier tonight. The pull was magnetic, like a natural force that forced Louis towards Harry. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t escape it. The way Harry had held him earlier, intimate and close, had felt so much better than it should have; especially when all they were doing was pretending. 

He was shaken out of the thought when he noticed people coming their way. 

“That’s him,” Louis said. He opened the door to Liam’s dressing room and glanced back at Harry once before he closed it behind himself. It only took a few seconds before Liam came in, looking exhausted and thrilled at once. He was sweaty and a little out of breath. 

“Lou,” he said, looking surprised. “That’s why Harry was lurking outside.” 

“He’s just making sure I get to be alone with you for a bit,” Louis said, sitting down. 

Liam took a towel and ran it over his neck and chest. “What did you think?” 

“I think you’re out of your bloody mind,” Louis replied. “What were you thinking?” 

“What?” Liam stopped his motions and stared at Louis. “What do you mean?” 

“That song for Zayn?” 

Liam’s mouth fell open. “How do you know it was for Zayn?” 

“God, Liam, I’m neither stupid nor deaf!” Louis threw his hands up in an annoyed gesture. “And Zayn isn’t, either.” 

“You think he figured it out?” Liam sounded hopeful.

“I do.” For a moment, Louis hesitated, not sure Liam was ready to hear what was coming next. There was no way around it, though. “And he didn’t like it.” 

Liam’s face fell. “What?” 

“He wasn’t happy with you singing that song publicly, Liam.” 

“But I didn’t say it was about him. No one even knows,” Liam defended himself. “No one knows about us.” 

“And you don’t think that may be a problem for him to begin with?” Louis asked. 

Liam flopped down onto the sofa next to Louis. “No,” he said, staring at the ceiling. “It’s not. He’s not looking for anything serious, Lou. We’re just-- friends with benefits, I guess.” 

Louis hummed. “Then why are you singing him love songs?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Liam asked. He still didn’t look at Louis. 

That was a little fucked up. Or maybe even a little more. “But you won’t be able to come out anytime soon, will you?” 

“So what’s the point?” Liam asked, and Louis knew he didn’t expect an answer to that. “It’s not like we could ever be together.” 

Louis pressed his lips together. He knew too well what it felt like to be stuck in a role, to have no way of breaking free from it. Louis, however, had never been hopelessly in love on top of it. 

“I’m sorry, Li,” he said, reaching out to put his hand over Liam’s. 

“Did he at least stay?” Liam asked. 

“He was still there when Harry and I left.” 

“You and Harry, huh?” Now, Liam turned to look at him. “You looked quite cute up there.” 

Louis forced himself to not look away. “We had to put on the couple’s act because of the journalists there.” 

“Looked quite natural,” Liam commented.

“We’re actors,” Louis pointed out. 

Liam smiled knowingly. “Be honest. You two have something going on.” 

For a moment, Louis tried to keep it in. He should drop the topic and make Liam talk about Zayn again. This was Liam, though. If there was anyone he could confide in, it was Liam. 

“We kissed.” 

Liam tilted his head and raised his brows. “I saw that, yeah. Your sister put it on Snapchat and the press went batshit crazy.”

“That was staged.” Louis shook his head. “I-- he stayed at mine in London for a night.” 

“Oh.” Liam’s eyes grew wider. “Oh!” 

Louis bit his lip. “It just kinda happened. He kissed me, and I kissed him back, and it was pretty hot, to be honest.” 

Liam laughed. “And then?” 

“We didn’t talk for a week,” Louis admitted. “I think today, I even touched him for the first time since then.” 

“You’re into him.” Liam voiced what Louis hadn’t been able to admit in front of himself once for the past week. 

“I hate it.” 

Laughing again, Liam tilted his head back. “Well, neither of you seemed reluctant to the act tonight.” 

While Liam got changed, Louis thought about that. If Harry had seemed just as comfortable in their act as Louis had, then maybe Harry felt the same about the kiss as Louis did, too. Maybe it hadn’t been a spur in the moment thing, and they were actually on the same page. 

It was a horrifying thought, in a way. A month ago, Louis would’ve laughed at anyone even just hinting at him falling for Harry Styles. Falling physically, obviously, but still. Louis was attracted to Harry, and he wanted to explore that feeling. 

He wanted those lips back on his, and there was no way he could deny it. He and Harry would probably never get along, but their physical chemistry was something else. There was something between them, and the way Harry had held him earlier could only mean that Harry felt it, too. 

Oh God, where was that going? When had he started allowing those thoughts? When had Louis lost his mind? 

Louis  _ was not _ going to sleep with Harry. He’d find someone else instead and get it out of his system. He’d hook up with some attractive bloke and let him take Louis apart, until all his sexual frustration was nothing but a distant memory and Harry Styles didn’t have an impact on him anymore. 

That couldn’t be so hard to do, right? 

+++

The party was already in full gear when they arrived. Liam was off in an instant -- as the main person at the party, everyone tried to get his attention, obviously. Louis watched on as a couple of women ganged up on him, engaging him in a conversation. 

He’d been quiet during the car ride here. Louis knew why, of course. Shortly after they had left the venue, Liam had received a text from Zayn, only stating that he had to go back and that he’d call him again. Texts like those usually only meant one thing: that the other person was never going to call again. Louis knew that, and Liam did, too. 

There were press people here, as well. Liam had warned Louis about it on their way. When they had left the dressing room, Harry had been talking to Andy, gesturing with his hands. Andy had looked a little sceptical, and then relieved when he had seen Liam and Louis. 

Harry had grinned at Louis proudly, giving him a subtle thumbs-up. Louis couldn’t have kept the smile off his face. Harry had something so childish and innocent to him sometimes. It was adorable and lovable, and Louis was sure that Harry was very well aware of it. That was why he wouldn’t fall for it. 

Now, he turned to check if Harry was still behind him. Louis found him entering the venue with Barbara, her arms laced in a friendly way. She was laughing about something and Harry smirked, looking pleased with himself. Louis waited where he was, hands in his pockets, and watched them approach. 

“There are paparazzi and press people around,” Louis said. “Guess we won’t get a break here, either.” 

Harry’s face fell and he instantly looked around. 

“You don’t seem like acting as a couple is that much of a chore,” Barbara commented. She looked a little bemused. 

“It’d be nice to act natural for a bit,” Harry replied. Then he shrugged. “Guess we just have to give them a bit of the show now. There’s so many people here, they’ll lose track of us sooner or later.” 

Louis nodded. Harry was probably right. Those press people were probably drinking, as well, which meant that after a while, they wouldn’t care. 

“Hey! There you are.” Oli joined them. “I’ve reserved a table over there.” 

“Great,” Louis said and made space for Barbara and Harry to follow first. He stayed behind Harry, steering him through the masses with a hand on his waist. 

Their crew was already at the table, as well as a bunch of other people Louis hadn’t seen before. They greeted them before they sat down. Louis quickly found out they were mostly friends of Zayn’s; people from the model business. Liam had apparently invited them for Zayn, Louis realised, feeling pity for Liam once again. After talking to a few of them, he recognised Chris Lyall. He couldn’t stop his head from turning, checking on Harry’s reaction. Apparently, though, Harry hadn’t spotted him yet. 

Louis cleared his throat and leaned in. “Styles.”

Harry’s eyes met his, and for a moment, Louis realised how close their faces were. Harry’s eyes fluttered slightly, his gaze dropping to Louis’ lips. Louis licked them, not sure what he had wanted to say. All he could think about was that look on Harry’s face. 

Suddenly, Harry pulled back and inhaled sharply. He blinked at Louis, looking like he had just been pulled from sleep, eyes hazy, lips slightly parted. 

“I’m--” Louis swallowed thickly, looking for the words. “I just wanted to say-- Chris is here.” 

Harry blinked, eyes darting past Louis. He stared for a moment, and Louis could see a set of different emotions flicker over his face. Confusion, realisation, uneasiness. Seeing the ex of your--- well. Louis pursed his lips, thinking. What were Harry and Luke exactly? 

In any case, seeing him didn’t make Harry look happy. 

A sudden thought hit Louis, and he frowned slightly, turning back around to look at Chris. They had met before, a few times, and had always got along. However, Chris had always been taken, so Louis had never given it much of a thought. Now, he had split from Luke, though, and maybe he was looking for something loose, something with no strings attached. 

Louis certainly did. He felt so riled up from having to act couple-y with Harry all the time, from that one stupid kiss, he needed an outlet. He needed a way to get it out of his system. And maybe Chris was just the right person to help with that. 

Getting up from his chair, Louis walked over, plopping down next to Chris on the bench he sat on. 

“Hi,” Louis said, throwing an arm over the backrest of the bench. “Long time no see.” 

Chris’ face lit up. His dark curls fell over his face and he pushed them away with one hand. “Louis! It’s great to see you. What are you doing here?” 

“It’s been a while,” Louis agreed. “Press tour for a new film, actually. You?” 

“A fashion show,” Chris shrugged. “Vetements.” 

“Nice.” Louis nodded, staying quiet for a moment. “Should we have a drink?” 

For a moment, Chris’ eyes searched his face, and he looked a little sceptical. Then, a smile took over and he pointed at the bar. “Let’s go get a drink, yeah.” 

Louis got up and waited for Chris to do so, as well. He went ahead and Louis turned briefly, finding Harry watching them, a small frown etched between his brows. Louis looked away.

Just because they were meant to be a couple, didn’t mean they had to stick together every second of the evening. At a party, it was just natural that they’d swarm out and talk to other people. 

They’d come together and they’d leave together. At least officially. No one had to know who ended up in Louis’ bed tonight. 

+++

Harry wished he were drunk. 

He was at the bar, music playing loudly behind him. Barbara was off to wherever, and whoever had come from their crew had already left. Paul had come up to him before he had gone, handing him a key card for one of the rooms in the hotel the party was held at. They’d pick him and Louis up in the morning. This way they could enjoy the party without worrying how to get back to their own hotel. Paul had arranged for clothes to be brought over, so Harry had nothing to be concerned about. 

Harry frowned a little deeper, looking into his glass.  _ Nothing _ to worry about. 

For the past five years, he had worried about Chris Lyall. Harry had worried about all the things that bloke had that Harry didn’t. Which mainly had been nothing else but Luke. Now, he had split from Luke, and Harry still wasn’t over his jealousy, and he wasn’t sure why. 

Chris and Louis sat at one of the tables, talking with their heads close, lips brushing each other’s skin when they leaned in to make their voices heard over the loud music. Louis had rested his hand on Chris’ thigh, and his posture was open. 

Anyone with eyes could see his agenda. 

Harry emptied his glass, wishing he’d finally feel at least tipsy, but the feeling wouldn’t set in. Instead, he was stuck in this place, watching his pretend boyfriend hook up with someone else. With someone Harry had resented for as long as he had known him. 

What was it about Chris that made him so attractive? That made him get to have every man he wanted? 

God, maybe he was drunk after all. Harry turned to order another drink. What were those thoughts? Where did they come from? Louis could do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted. It was none of Harry’s business, and Harry clearly didn’t have any right to feel jealous. 

Taking his new glass, Harry emptied half of it in one go, shaking his head afterwards. Maybe he wasn’t jealous. He was simply angry, because Louis was openly flirting with someone else at an event where they were supposed to act like a couple. He was being unprofessional, and Harry could already predict what kind of articles they’d have to deal with in the morning. 

Julia’d be angry; Nick would probably even call -- and he never called when Harry was overseas, unless something major had happened. Them fucking up their pretend relationship was probably an instance that would have Nick on the phone in a few hours. He’d give Harry a piece of his mind while Harry would not even be awake enough to defend himself. 

And it was going to be Louis’ fault. 

Sick of standing around, Harry emptied what was left of his drink and joined the crowd on the dance floor. He spotted Barbara and she pulled him closer, into the circle of people she was dancing with. She smelled of clean sweat and the powder she usually used, perfume and shampoo, all mixed together. It was familiar and for a moment, Harry held her close, swaying her. When he let go, she kissed his cheek, rubbing her thumb over the lipstick stain she had most certainly left on his skin. 

“Where is Lou?” she asked. 

“By now, probably snogging Chris,” Harry replied. 

Barbara grinned, biting her bottom lip. “Are you jealous?” 

“Just pissed off, because there’s press here and they’ll take us apart in the papers.” Harry felt eyes on himself and turned his head a little, finding a tall, broad bloke watching him from the other side of the dance floor. 

It needed a double take, but then he recognised him. He touched Barbara’s arm lightly, excusing himself. 

“Jason,” Harry said, going for a hug instantly. “What are you doing here?” 

Jason returned the hug. “We’re here for a friendly match against the Australian team. Heard there’s an exclusive party going on, so we had to check that out.” 

Harry laughed. “Of course you had. Did the whole team come?” 

Jason shook his head. “Just a few of the lads. Liam attends the game tomorrow. Why don’t you come, too?” 

“I’d love to!” Harry felt himself beaming. He hadn’t seen Jason in a good year; exactly since the day their contract had expired. 

“You can bring your new fake boyfriend,” Jason said, winking. “I promise I won’t be the jealous ex.” 

“If it flatters you, you were the better pretend boyfriend,” Harry told him. 

“It does, actually.” Jason lifted his glass in a toast. “But with both of you being actors, putting on a show shouldn’t be that difficult.” 

Harry shrugged. “You have no idea.” 

“There he is,” Jason said, a smile forming on his lips. “And he doesn’t look amused.” 

“Jason Summers,” Louis said, stopping next to Harry. Chris was right behind him. “What an honour to meet you. I’m a huge fan.” 

Jason shook Louis’ hand. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Did you go to the concert?” Louis asked, and his voice was too sweet for him to actually be interested. “I didn’t see you.” 

“Unfortunately not.” Jason shook his head. “We didn’t know Liam was playing tonight. Just found out about the party because the team is accommodated in this hotel.” 

Louis nodded. “That’s a pity. I bet Liam would’ve loved to have you at the gig.” 

“He’s coming to the game tomorrow,” Jason said. “I just invited Harry, too.” 

Now, Louis’ mask dropped, and he looked genuinely excited. “Really?” 

“Sure. We’d be happy to have some more England fans cheering us on.” 

Harry reached out to touch Jason’s arm. “I’ll cheer the loudest.” 

Jason smiled, briefly resting his hand over Harry’s, before Louis curled his fingers around Harry’s other arm.

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Louis asked, already pulling Harry along. 

Harry rolled his eyes at Jason, but followed. He wasn’t sure what Louis could possibly want from him now, but he’d sure like to find out. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Louis asked when they reached a quiet corner. 

Harry raised a brow. “Me?” 

“There’s press in the room and you’re openly flirting with your public ex, while I’m here.” Louis crossed his arms. 

“I don’t think they’ll care for it, because they already have their story about you hitting it up with Chris Lyall while I was nursing a drink at the bar all by myself,” Harry shot back.

“What the fuck?” Louis gaped at him. “I was just talking to him.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Harry snorted. “I was just talking to Jason, too.” 

Louis growled and his expression turned dark. “God, I almost forgot why I can’t stand you.” 

“That’s nice to hear, because you never let me forget why _ I  _ can’t stand  _ you _ .” Harry crossed his arms, too. “We were supposed to attend as a couple, and you bloody flirt with another guy all night. Not very professional.” 

“You want us to put on a show?” Louis asked. “You want me to convince every single person in this room that I’m not interested in anyone but you?” 

“Well, it’d be enough if the press people believed that,” Harry replied. “I don’t think there’s anything to save, though. You ruined it about two drinks ago when you whispered whatever dirty secrets to Chris.” 

Louis huffed. “God, fuck you. You’re driving me insane.” He grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. Without a warning, he pulled Harry close, their hips aligning and Louis’ fingers digging into Harry’s flesh. 

Harry’s lips fell open, and he wanted to protest, but then Louis rolled his hips and Harry lost every coherent thought. Instead, he slung his arms around Louis’ shoulders, and started moving with him. The bass was deep, the rhythm slow and Louis’ movements perfectly in time with the beat. He tilted his head, lips briefly brushing Harry’s jaw. 

Closing his eyes, Harry let himself fall, let the feeling take over. He knew he was weak, was a pushover, but this was every single bit of a wet dream he’d had over the past week. Louis, compact and strong, in Harry’s arms, moving against him in the most delicious way. 

“Let’s show them,” Louis whispered, and Harry could barely make it out against the loud music. “Make them believe there’s no one else.” 

There wasn’t. Right in this very moment, there wasn’t anyone else. There was just Louis, and Harry wanted him more than he had wanted him before. He smelled so nice, just like he had before when Harry had held him during the concert. He moved so torturingly slow, and every inch of Harry that touched him was on fire. 

Louis turned around, pressing his back against Harry’s front, and Harry lost the rhythm. He knew they were in public, but he couldn’t bring himself to check for anyone’s reaction. He couldn’t bring himself to care about anything or anyone that wasn’t Louis. His hips swayed but they had their own rhythm now, and he was growing hard. 

God, he was hard, and he was in public. 

Louis brought one hand up, resting it over Harry’s nape, pulling him closer. Harry moved his own hands from Louis’ waist to his abdomen and slowly pushed one down, testing the waters. Louis didn’t pull back, and Harry slid his hand lower, resting it right over the waistband of Louis’ jeans. Louis shivered and Harry closed his eyes, burying his face against Louis’ neck. 

He slid his hand even lower, desperate to find out if Louis was just as affected by this as Harry was. He let go of a shaky breath, mixed with a groan when his hand came to rest over Louis’ crotch, finding a bulge, his hard cock trapped beneath the zipper of his jeans. Louis trembled, and Harry pulled him closer, almost losing it when Louis put his hand over Harry’s, gently pressing down. He could feel the outline of Louis’ cock, could feel it throbbing. Harry wanted to follow Louis’ lead, but he was unable to do anything about it here. They were on a bloody dance floor and he had his hand on Louis’ cock. 

God, that would make for an entirely different headline in the morning. 

Louis turned, and he was out of breath, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glassy. “We should go.” 

Harry’s mouth was dry. He licked his lips, watching Louis’ eyes follow the movement of his tongue. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Louis took his hand and Harry followed, not looking back once. He didn’t even take in his surroundings, eyes focused on Louis’ back, mind occupied with what had just happened. He knew he’d regret it come morning, but right now he didn’t have it in him. 

They reached the lifts and Louis clung to Harry’s hand, unable to stand still until the doors slid open. Harry followed him inside the lift, about to crowd Louis against the big mirror and finally get his lips back on Louis’. 

“You’re insane, you know that?” Harry asked.

Louis stared at him, eyes a little wide. “Am I?” 

Harry couldn’t help but grin. Those words sounded familiar, and when Harry had said them last time, they had led to them kissing each other mindlessly. 

Suddenly, Louis ducked away, dropping Harry’s hand. He pressed a button and the doors slid closed. “I hope you’re satisfied now.” 

Harry blinked, turning to look at Louis. He had moved as far away from Harry as possible. “What?” 

“We put on a show,” Louis said, clearing his throat. “And no one’s gonna have a doubt who either of us is going to take home tonight.” 

The lift stopped and Louis went ahead into the corridor. Feeling a little struck down, Harry followed. He had no idea what was happening. Had they not just almost snogged on the dance floor? 

Louis stopped in front of a door and Harry noticed it was the one right next to the room Paul had booked him in. Harry stopped in front of that one. 

“Guess that’s a mission accomplished then for today.” Louis didn’t even look at Harry as he opened his door. “See you in the morning.” 

Harry watched him disappear into the room, the door falling closed. He just stood there, too dumbfounded to do anything. He was still half-hard in his trousers, and had no idea what had just happened. Slowly, he turned to his door and opened it, walking inside. He leaned against the door and stared into the dark room. 

They were back to square one. Just like when they had kissed, every bit of progress they had made had been erased. For the coming week, they’d probably not talk a single word again, and ignore each other as best as they could. 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He had no idea what he was doing. Louis Tomlinson was the most irritating, annoying man he had ever met. And whatever he had done tonight, Harry couldn’t pretend again that it hadn’t happened.

He should go out right now and find some bloke and hook up for a casual one night stand. That had been something he hadn’t been interested in in a while, because he had wanted something serious instead. Maybe he had to get Louis out of his system, though. He couldn’t even think of Luke these days, because Louis was driving him crazy. 

How dare Louis rile him up like that and then act like nothing had happened? He had let Harry touch him in a way no one should touch him in public. Was he out of his bloody mind? 

Groaning, Harry buried his face in his hands, but when he closed his eyes, the images came back, all the feelings of Louis pressed against him, hot skin and smooth moves. 

God, Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to do something about it. Or else he’d go completely crazy.

+++

Louis paced his room, ruffling his hair and biting his nails. 

Was he crazy? Insane? A masochist? 

Maybe all of it. He had lost his mind, clearly. How had he managed to reject Harry like that? He had let him touch his cock, bloody hell. His clothed cock, but still. Harry’s hand had been on his cock, and then Louis had lost it and had pretended like he didn’t care. 

God, he was too bloody proud, and of course Harry hadn’t seen through it. How could he? He’d probably never even look at Louis again. He was probably already out to find a replacement to take care of him tonight. And Louis had missed his chance because he was too afraid of admitting he’d been wrong, of admitting that he was attracted to Harry. 

Collapsing on his bed, he stared at the ceiling. He knew that when he closed his eyes, he’d see Harry, and he’d be back in that dream he had so many times over the past week. He couldn’t risk that, couldn’t take care of another hard-on in the shower, imagining what could’ve been. 

He was so pathetic, it was laughable. 

A knock on the door made him sit up, eyes going wide. His heart beat high in his throat and he stumbled to the door, hands shaking. He took a deep intake of breath before he opened it, ready to face Harry. 

His heart fell when he saw Oli. 

“Just wanted to let you know I’m in room 634,” Oli said. “In case you need something.” 

Louis ran a hand over his face. He knew Oli only meant well, but he was the last person Louis wanted to see right now. “Just text me next time,” he said and slammed the door shut. 

With disappointment settling in his chest, he dragged himself back to the bed. He had just flopped down again, his cheek squished against the duvet when there was another knock. Louis rolled his eyes, knowing that Oli was going to demand an answer for Louis’ bad mood. 

When he reached the door again, he opened it ready with an explanation. “Listen, I know I‘m---” 

The words died in his throat when he saw Harry. 

Time stood still for a moment, and Louis could only stare at him, and Harry stared right back. Neither of them moved, but Harry seemed angry, there was an upset tilt to his lips, and his brows were furrowed. He had already removed the headband and his curls were falling loose. 

Louis blinked and in the next moment, Harry was in his space, and his voice was deep, an angry whisper. “God, I hate you so much.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, just leaned in and kissed Louis, so hard, Louis lost every single thought on his mind. He went tongue first, and Louis met him halfway, moaning into it. He heard the door fall shut before he was pressed against the wall. Harry’s hands were everywhere, pressing, brushing, pulling. 

“You’re insane,” Harry kept on babbling, fingers already working on pulling Louis’ t-shirt up. “You’re driving me insane.” 

“Kiss me,” Louis replied, knowing fully well that it made no sense. “Just keep kissing me.” 

Harry complied, covering Louis’ mouth with his lips again. He bit Louis’ bottom lip before he pulled back to get Louis out of his t-shirt. His lips wandered down, attacking Louis’ neck. Louis tilted his head back and closed his eyes, bringing his hands to the front of Harry’s shirt to unbutton it. He found smooth skin when he opened it. 

“I need,” Harry breathed, sucking Louis’ skin. His hands came to rest on Louis’ bum and he squeezed, groaning deeply. “Please.” 

Louis felt his cock grow harder at those words. He moved his hands down and opened Harry’s jeans. With one slick move, he shoved them over Harry’s hips, pulling his underwear in the process. He hesitated a moment, then he looked down, seeing Harry’s cock curved up, thick and hard. Big, Louis added in his thoughts, licking his lips. 

Harry made quick work of unzipping Louis’ jeans. He didn’t pull them down, though, but instead slid his hand inside, cupping Louis’ erection. Louis’ knees got weak and he whined, pushing his hips forwards, seeking friction. 

It wasn’t graceful. There was nothing graceful, beautiful or gentle about the way they touched each other. Harry gasped into Louis’ mouth when Louis curled his fingers around him, and there was nothing Louis regretted about it. He had wanted to get his hands on a cock for ages, and he had to admit, Harry’s wasn’t a bad choice. He was heavy and hot, pulsing with want. Louis rubbed the head, collecting some precome to make the slide of his palm easier. 

Harry rocked into it, his forehead resting against Louis’, both of them sweaty, and Harry’s fingers firm around Louis’ neck, holding him in place. They kissed briefly, lips brushing and tongues licking over lips. Louis moaned in protest when Harry pulled his hand out of his trousers, hips bucking. 

“Shh.” Harry squeezed his nape, eyes unbelievably green when he opened them. They were a stark contrast to his pink lips. He used his free hand to pull Louis’ jeans down and rested his hands over Louis’ hips then, to rub their cocks together. 

Louis’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he didn’t know if it was pain or pleasure he felt. He wanted to be released, wanted to let go. He let his head fall to Harry’s shoulder, biting down as he touched both their cocks. Harry brought his hand between them, too, and cupped Louis’ balls, rolling them between his fingers. 

“Please,” Louis whined, trying to get his hand around both of them. 

Harry pushed his hand away and his long fingers curled around them, squeezing their cocks against his palm. They slid together easily and Louis rocked his hips, trapping one of Harry’s legs between his own. He lifted his face and bit Harry’s jaw before he found his lips again. Harry gasped into the kiss, thumb stroking over the sensitive head of Louis’ cock. 

He almost screamed when Harry pulled a little harder, and his strokes got rougher. Heat curled in the pit of his stomach, and Louis heard himself stutter incoherent words, then he came, saw his cock spurting white drops all over their bellies. Harry followed shortly after, his come mixing with Louis’, dripping down his fingers. 

Out of breath, Louis kept his head lowered, watching Harry uncurl his fingers from around their cocks. He was panting into Louis’ ear and his hand was sweaty in the back of Louis’ neck. His curls were sticking to Louis’ cheek. 

“Fuck,” Louis muttered as he lifted his head. “I--” 

He didn’t get to say more, because Harry caught his lips in another kiss. Louis sank into it, hands uncurling from Harry’s shirt and sliding beneath it to rest over his back. He tilted his head slightly, giving Harry more access. 

“You’re so annoyingly sexy,” Harry said when he broke away. “I can’t stand it.” 

“Same,” Louis whispered. “I’m so mad at how much I want you.” 

“I almost bought that act in the lift earlier.” Harry changed his angle, tongue dipping past Louis’ lips. He ran his hand down Louis’ back and cupped one of Louis’ arsecheeks, fingers digging into the flesh. “But you don’t act getting hard.” 

Louis moaned and pulled back enough to look at Harry. “Fuck you.” 

Harry laughed, running his hand up into Louis’ hair. “You’re so obnoxious and annoying.” 

“Likewise,” Louis said, pinching Harry’s love handle. 

“But it’s also a lot of fun,” Harry admitted, smiling. His lips were bitten pink, and his skin was flushed, and he smelled like sex and vanilla. “Fighting with you.” 

Louis pulled him in again, kissing him deeply. Harry came easily and Louis felt the heat spread through his body again. He wanted to argue, but what was the point? He got what he had wanted, and, good God, that was a glorious feeling. It  _ was _ fun. 

“If we end up like this, it is,” he agreed, pushing Harry in the direction of the bed. 

===

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3


	7. Strange Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delivered with my best birthday wishes for my friend I <3 
> 
> Enjoy the read, you guys!!

 

Harry zipped up his bag and carried it to the door. Paul had thought of everything, except for Harry's hair products. He had washed his hair this morning, but looked like a mess because the hotel’s shampoo had turned his hair into one dry mass.  

Texting Barbara, he paced the room, waiting to be picked up. She texted back immediately, reassuring him that they'd get his hair in order before the first interview for the day. 

He stopped the pacing when he thought of Louis. His skin prickled with the memories of the night before, with the feeling of Louis' fingers all over Harry. He touched a bruise on his hip, losing focus.

Last night had certainly been hot. A one time thing, but hot nevertheless. Something to remember. Louis had been demanding, and at the same time he'd seemed so giving, a little insecure even. Harry reckoned he'd been the same. After all, they didn't know each other well, and didn't know the other's boundaries and preferences. 

Yet, Harry had felt like they had slotted together quite well. It had been easy to read Louis, to understand his body language. In the same way, Harry hadn't needed to use words to make Louis understand what he'd wanted. Louis had simply known, had read every single one of Harry's needs before he had the chance to voice them. 

Harry had left Louis' room after the third time getting each other off. They hadn't really talked in between. Whenever Louis had said a word, Harry had shut him up with a kiss, and every kiss had led to them riling each other up again. Louis had complained the whole time, but every complaint had been accentuated with him biting Harry’s skin, a low moan, or a loud whine. Even if he had been complaining about hating Harry, hating himself for getting into bed with Harry, he had been into it, and had complained even louder each time Harry had withdrawn. 

There was no doubt that Louis had wanted it the same way Harry had.

Hopefully now, they’d be able to move on from it. The tension between them was solved, they had given into the attraction. With that, they should’ve got it out of their systems. Looking at Louis now, Harry wouldn’t think about kissing him, or what it would be like to touch him, to make him moan. He was over it now. That’d make working with Louis so much easier from here on. 

He went to the door when someone knocked, surprised to see Oli behind it. 

“Morning,” Oli said, hands in his pockets. “The car is here to pick you up. Are you ready to go?” 

Harry nodded. “Where’s Paul.” 

“I texted him that he doesn’t need to come here. I’m here, and Louis’ bodyguard is, too. That should be enough staff to get you two back to your hotel.” 

“Right.” Harry grabbed his bag. “Makes sense.” 

Oli took the keycard for the room. “I’ll go and check out. Alberto is gonna accompany you outside to the car.” 

Harry spotted Louis’ bodyguard at the lift, holding it for him. “What about Louis?” 

“He’s already downstairs.” Oli joined Alberto in the lift and gestured for Harry to follow. 

In the lobby, Alberto took Harry’s bag and led him to the car waiting outside the hotel. Alberto lingered until Harry was in the backseat before he closed the door and went to the hood of the car. Harry hadn’t seen anyone lurk outside, but he got why their bodyguards were always wary. 

When the door was closed, Harry turned and found Louis on the other side of the backseat. He was facing Harry, eyes a little wide, hands in his lap. Harry froze for a moment, hand on the seatbelt. 

“Hi,” Louis said. 

“Hi,” Harry replied. 

They both turned away at the same moment, and Harry cleared his throat. He fastened his seatbelt and laced his fingers afterwards. Alberto got into the passenger seat before the door on Louis’ side was opened. 

“Move over, Lou,” Oli said. 

“Didn’t you get a second car?” Louis asked. “Why do we all have to cramp into one?” 

“It’s not a Mini,” Oli reminded him. “And it’s only ten minutes. Move.” 

Louis mumbled something under his breath as he slid over into the middle seat. “You’re the worst personal assistant ever.” 

Oli didn’t even pay attention, just got into the car and told the driver they were good to go. Louis shook his head and grabbed his seatbelt, but hesitated when he realised his buckle was right next to Harry’s hip. Their eyes met for a moment, and Harry shifted, making space for Louis’ hand. 

Their sides touched anyway, their hips, arms and shoulders being pressed against each other. Harry felt warmth spread from Louis’ over his own skin. He smelled shampoo and soap, some aftershave as well. In his mind, he saw Louis beneath the shower, scrubbing away the traces of last night. There had been come in his hair; Harry had smeared it there when he had kissed Louis. 

Harry wondered if Louis had any traces of last night he couldn’t wash away. Like the bruise on Harry’s hip, or the lovebite over his collarbone. Traces like the warm heat spreading through him when his skin touched Louis’. 

Turning to the window, Harry tried to break that skin contact. He had no idea what was going on. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to still feel riled up when Louis was close. He was supposed to be over it now. 

Why wasn’t he over it? 

After ten minutes that had dragged out like an old chewing gum, they arrived at their hotel. Alberto and Oli got out first, and Oli turned, giving them a sign to wait. Harry watched through the window how Alberto brought their bags inside, then Paul came out of the hotel. He opened Harry’s door and told him to make it inside quickly. 

Fans were yelling both their names, but Harry didn’t turn. Paul was right behind him, urging him on to walk into the hotel. In the lobby, Harry turned and saw Alberto accompany Louis inside, too. 

“Barbara is waiting in Harry’s room,” Paul said. He turned to Louis. “She said she’d like you to come see her, too.” 

“She acts like I can’t comb my hair,” Louis complained. 

“Judging from how you look today, I’d say you can’t,” Alberto commented. 

Harry laughed, and Louis shot him a glare. 

“Just go up and let her do her magic,” Oli said, ushering them to the lift. “We don’t wanna have you look like you shagged all night for the interviews.” 

When he turned his back to them to press the button for the floor, Harry couldn’t help but look at Louis, finding him staring back. Louis’ cheeks were red and Harry guessed his own were, too. Instinctively, Harry touched his hair, and Louis suddenly turned away, crossing his arms and staring at the wall. 

“You!” Julia pointed at them as soon as they came into Harry’s hotel room. 

Harry stopped in his tracks, expecting the worst. 

“You are so brilliant!” Julia clutched her heart. “Twitter is in a frenzy because of you two. That was a brilliant act last night.” 

“What’s that about?” Oli asked. 

“Them snogging on the dance floor at Liam Payne’s party,” Barbara said. She gestured for Harry to come over and sit down. “There are pictures and videos all over the internet.” 

“Let me see,” Oli said, approaching Julia. 

Louis sat down on Harry’s bed, crossing his legs. “There’s nothing to see.” 

“I beg to differ.” Julia moved a finger over the screen of her tablet, then music could be heard. 

“What is---” Oli audibly gasped. “Harry’s got his hand on your--” 

Harry felt his cheeks flush again. “I had to do something to make the people in the room believe he was not going to ditch me for Chris Lyall.” 

Julia nodded sternly, pointing at Louis again. “That was risky. I almost had a heart attack when I got the alerts for your mentions on Twitter.” 

“We were just talking,” Louis defended himself. 

“Didn’t look like it.” Julia shrugged. “Anyway. You saved the situation with that steamy dance there.” 

Barbara hummed, poking Harry’s nape. “Looked authentic.” 

“We’re actors,” Harry said immediately. 

“Just doing our job,” Louis agreed hastily. 

The rest of the crew seemed to be content with the explanation -- and why wouldn’t they be? It wasn’t like any of them had reason to suspect anything more was going on between Harry and Louis. They hadn’t given them reason to think that. After all, everyone from their crew thought they couldn’t stand each other. 

Which they couldn’t, Harry reminded himself. Except between the sheets; they had got along pretty well there. Everything was back to normal now, though. Nothing had changed, and Harry didn’t view Louis any differently than before. 

“Okay, you’re good,” Barbara said, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Your turn, Lou.” 

They changed places, and Julia came back over, still busy on her tablet. “Good. Today, we’ll mix it up a little. For the first half, Harry’s paired with Peter. Louis, you’re paired with Maggy, and joined by Colin after an hour.” 

Thank God, Harry thought. It was the first time they got separated during interviews. Today really was the best day to do that, because Harry hadn’t figured how to act around Louis yet. Even if last night hadn’t changed how Harry felt about Louis, he still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act around him. They hadn’t talked about that; neither of them had given it any thought. Harry wasn’t even sure they were on the same page about how they'd handle what had happened last night. 

For him, it was clear that it had been a one night thing. Did Louis see it the same way, though? From how he had acted around Harry in the car earlier, it seemed so. Yet, without ever really talking about it, Harry couldn't know, could he? 

They had just dived right into it, not giving the consequences any thought. 

“Harry, are you ready?” Julia asked. 

Harry blinked, looking up. She stood in front of him, head tilted. He got off the bed, nodding quickly, and hoped no one had realised what was going on in his head. Julia walked to the door, and Harry followed. He threw one glance back, finding Louis staring after him. Their eyes met, and Harry quickly turned again, biting his bottom lip. 

They really hadn’t thought that through. 

+++

“Hey, Harry!” 

Turning, Harry saw Maggy approaching him. He stopped, and waited for her to reach him. 

“Maggy.” He hugged her, patting her back lightly. “I thought you were doing an interview with Louis and Colin?” 

She nodded. “They took me out for one single interview. I’m about to go join them again.” 

“Me, too,” Harry said. “Peter and I finished all of our interviews, so they told me to go join you guys.” 

“ They're still recording, so we gotta be quiet, but we can already go in.” Maggy took his hand and opened the door, peeking inside before she stepped in. 

Colin was talking, voice low and his demeanour composed. “So they let me stay with Maggy. We had ice cream.” 

Louis laughed. He had his head turned to Colin, looking at him fondly. “Ice cream is always a winner.” 

Colin grinned up at him. “We could have ice cream after this!” 

Harry let Maggy go ahead and stand behind the camera team. He stayed behind her, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.  

“We should go to one if the beaches here, buy ice cream and go surfing,” Louis suggested. 

Colin looked unsure of that. “I've never been surfing.”

“I'll teach you, mate.” Resting a hand over Colin’s knee, Louis winked at him. “No problem.” 

For a moment, Colin seemed to think about that. “Can we take everyone else, too?” 

Harry had almost forgotten that it was an interview, until a woman churned in. “Like a big party?” 

Colin looked at her, nodding enthusiastically. Then, he spotted Maggy and his eyes lit up. “Maggy!” 

The woman turned, spotting them both. She smiled, and Harry knew she wouldn't miss that chance. “Maggy, Harry. Why don't you join us?” 

The small sofa was barely made for two. Harry decided to sit on the armrest on Collin’s side, and let Maggy squeeze onto the sofa with them.  

“You can sit in my lap,” Maggy said and lifted Colin up. 

He let his feet dangle, holding Maggy’s arms around his waist. “And you can sit in Harry's lap!” he said to Louis. 

Louis briefly glanced at Harry, and they were most certainly thinking the same. “I'm not a kid like you anymore, Colin,” he said. “I can't sit in Harry's lap.” 

“Ah, come on, guys,” the woman cooed. “You're a couple, so it's no big deal.” 

Harry cleared his throat. There wasn’t much they could do; not as long as the cameras were rolling. He gestured for Louis to stand up. 

“You can sit in my lap,” Louis offered, leaning back to make space for Harry. 

“You heard the man.” Harry pointed at Colin. “You’ll sit in my lap.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, but to Harry’s surprise, he actually got up. Sitting down, Harry winked at Colin who grinned at him, a fresh gap where one of his front teeth should’ve been. Louis carefully slid onto Harry’s lap, one arm coming to rest around Harry’s shoulders. Louis’ side molded seamlessly against Harry’s front, his body warmth seeping into Harry. He slowly wound his arms around Louis’ middle, resting his hands over Louis’ hip. 

“Aw,” the woman interviewing them said. Harry had almost forgotten about the situation. Every single cell in his brain was needed to keep his body from reacting to Louis. He still smelled nice, and his weight was familiar. “You’re bickering like you’ve been married for years.” 

Harry laughed weakly, and Louis snorted. 

“Sometimes, I feel like he costs me a few years of my life,” Louis commented. 

“Really?” The woman tilted her head, looking at Louis curiously. “How so?” 

“Um…” Louis turned his face to Harry, his expression showing that he hadn’t thought that through. Pursing his lips, he let his eyes roam over Harry’s face, and Harry wondered what it was he was looking for. “He’s annoying.” 

“Is he?” The woman asked. 

Louis was still looking at Harry, and Harry couldn’t help his lips from stretching into a smile. “Yeah, Louis. Am I?” 

It took a moment, and Harry could see it in Louis’ eyes -- the irritation, but there was something else, too. Something warm and gentle. If Harry hadn’t known any better, he’d have confused it for genuine affection. Louis turned his head, smirking at the woman. “I kinda like it.” 

“You do, apparently,” she agreed. “Or else, you wouldn’t be with him.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Louis agreed, suddenly sounding thoughtful. 

The interviewer turned to Maggy. “Did you see this coming on set? Were there any signs?”

Maggy looked at them with a bemused smile. “No, not at all. They barely met on set. Did you?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, we only saw each other on set one or two times.” 

“It must’ve been love at first sight then.” The interviewer touched her heart. “You immediately knew.” 

Louis ran his hand up Harry’s nape, making his skin prickle with the memory of how he had rested it there last night. Of how he had pulled Harry’s hair, fingers scraping over Harry’s scalp. 

“I guess I immediately knew that he was different,” Louis said. “Not like anyone I had met before.” 

Harry had to keep himself from laughing. Louis certainly didn’t mean it the way the woman had suggested it. Biting his bottom lip, Harry leaned his forehead against Louis’ shoulder, slightly shaking his head. 

“Aw, he’s embarrassed,” the interviewer cooed. 

Harry pulled back when he realised what he was doing. This was Louis he held in his arms, and Harry acted like being intimate was casual. Louis turned his face to him briefly, looking a little confused upon Harry’s reaction. His hand was still but firm in Harry’s nape, and Harry wondered if they had crossed the line of casual intimacy. 

Louis’ body was familiar, as well as the way he touched Harry. That was intimacy between them. Something Harry hadn’t shared with another man in a long while. 

“Louis would be Spiderman,” Colin said when Harry shook out of his thoughts and concentrated on the interview again. “He’s funny and clever.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Louis said, his laugh a slight tremor against Harry’s chest. “I like Spidey.” 

“Maggy,” the interviewer went on, “if Colin were an animal, which one would he be?” 

“A mouse,” Maggy replied. She pulled Colin a little closer, cuddling him. “He’s always so quiet, but really cute and so polite.” 

“That fits,” Louis agreed. “He’s really polite. He never wanted to prank the rest of the cast with me.” 

“That’s mean.” Colin shook his head, the brown hair flopping with it. “I wouldn’t want them to be angry with me.” 

“As if anyone could be angry with you.” Maggy kissed his head. 

The interviewer turned to Louis and Harry. “Next one is for you, Louis. If Harry were a city, which one would he be?” 

They both started laughing at the same time. Louis’ eyes crinkled and he smirked at Harry, looking absolutely delighted. Harry rolled his eyes at him, but he knew that he couldn’t keep the fondness off his face. 

There was only one possible answer Louis could give. 

“What’s so funny?” the woman asked. 

“Don’t you dare,” Harry warned him, trying to sound intimidating. 

“He’s L.A.,” Louis said, still looking at Harry, his eyes sparkling with wit. “One hundred percent.” 

Harry groaned, trying to hold back a laugh and closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against Louis’ shoulder again. “Oh my God, I hate you.” 

“Will you let us in on the joke?” the interviewer asked. “What’s going on?” 

Louis shrugged, his hand moving up into Harry’s hair. He twirled a curl around his finger. “That’s our secret.” 

It was, Harry realised. It was something between only them. Louis had just compared Harry to the city he disliked most. Yet, he had made it look like an endearment. It had strangely felt like one. Harry lifted his head, focusing back on the question he was asked. 

He still wound his arms a little tighter around Louis. Harry was going to pay him back somehow. He was sure he’d get a chance to get revenge for that comment. The odd thing about that was, that Harry wasn’t really angry or annoyed, or even hurt. It was like a game; teasing each other, and making fun of each other. Riling each other up. 

Harry was truly having fun exchanging banter with Louis, and he felt like that wasn’t one-sided, either. 

+++

“I’m so not L.A.,” Harry said the moment they were back in the car. 

They were on their way to the stadium where England played against Australia. Louis couldn’t believe he was going to meet the whole team in a few minutes, his mind completely occupied with the thoughts about how to greet them, what to tell them. It took him a moment to catch up with what Harry was on about. 

“You are,” he replied. “You decided for that city against London. Says it all.” 

“You hate L.A.,” Harry reminded him. 

Louis nodded. “That was my point.” 

“You can’t compare your boyfriend to the city you hate the most in front of a camera.” 

“They don’t know I don’t like L.A., do they?” 

Harry hummed, his brows knitting together. Louis felt the odd urge to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. Just like he couldn’t have stopped himself earlier from touching Harry’s hair. It was soft and silky, and Louis loved how it felt between his fingers. 

Not that he’d ever admit that out loud in front of anyone. 

To himself, though, he had to admit that he had wanted every second of last night. He had wanted Harry to touch him, to kiss him, and to make him come -- and, God, it had been worth losing his pride. Harry had proven to be as good a lover as Louis had imagined. 

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been enough. Louis had hoped he’d only needed to sleep with Harry that one time to get over that curiosity. What had happened, though, was the opposite. Louis felt like he needed more, had only got a taste of what could really be. 

Even if he didn’t have experience with men, Louis knew that the sex last night had been phenomenal. He didn’t need any experience to know that. They didn’t get along outside of bed, but between the sheets, their chemistry was spot on. Harry had known exactly where to touch Louis, and his lips had known exactly where to linger. 

Looking at Harry, Louis pursed his lips a little. They probably got along better outside of bed than he had thought. He liked Harry’s humour, and he liked how Harry treated everyone he met with respect and kindness. That was a rare trait to find amongst the people in Hollywood, but Harry seemed genuine. He was quirky, and definitely not like anyone Louis knew. 

He cared. 

Louis studied Harry’s profile; his wild curls held back by a headband, his brows furrowed, his lips a thin line. The way Harry complained about Louis comparing him to something he disliked, showed that Harry cared about the way Louis saw him. He cared for Louis, and Louis was afraid that he cared for Harry in the same way. 

He liked Harry, and maybe, he needed to be honest about that. Holding on to some anger and aversion he had built on misconceptions before he had even really got to know Harry, was childish. Now that he knew Harry better, Louis had to admit that he had misunderstood Harry in the beginning. Not completely -- and there were still things he disliked about Harry -- but yet, Louis had taken a few things about Harry the wrong way. 

When the car stopped, Louis got out first, and held out his hand immediately. Harry took it, lacing their fingers. Even that felt familiar by now. Journalists and paparazzi took photos, yelling their names, but Louis ignored them, following the security staff inside the arena. 

They were led to the changing rooms, and Louis stopped before they could go in. He only realised they hadn’t stopped holding hands when Harry stopped, too, and turned to Louis. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Louis shuffled his feet, not looking at Harry. “I gotta admit, I’m a little nervous.” 

Harry stepped a little closer. “Why would you be nervous?” 

“I’m a huge fan. Always been.” Louis shrugged. “This is actually quite big for me.” 

For a moment, Harry was quiet and Louis didn’t dare look up at him. “Aww,” Harry cooed then, voice thick with sarcasm. “A true fan boy.” 

Louis kicked Harry’s shin; not too hard, but hard enough to drive the message home. “Don’t you dare make fun of me.” 

“What? Are you gonna faint in there? Squeal and scream their names?” Harry laughed, but it wasn’t condescending. He did it in a way that sounded affectionate. 

“Obviously not.” Louis rolled his eyes, trying to play down his cheeks flushing red. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Harry still chuckled, but then he squeezed Louis’ hand. “Hey.” He waited, and Louis forced himself to look at him. He smiled at Louis. “No need to be nervous, okay? They’re all cool.” 

“You’ve met them before?” 

“Most of them, yeah. Jason took me to a lot of games and training sessions last year, when-- you know.” Harry shrugged. “They’re all really nice.” 

“You got along well with Jason, didn’t you?” Louis asked. 

Harry pursed his lips. “I got along with all my pretend boyfriends, honestly.” 

“Until me,” Louis added. 

“Until you,” Harry agreed. He looked at their laced fingers and back up at Louis’ face. “We had a rough start, but found a way to make it work, I’d say.” 

With sex. Louis didn’t dare say it out loud. Instead, he nodded. “I guess you’re not so bad, after all.” 

“Ditto,” Harry said. “You can actually be quite decent, when you’re not trying to get my goat.” 

“I’m gonna let that one slide, but only because you’re introducing me to the complete English footie team.” Louis poked Harry’s arm. “But, just for the records, you’re the one trying to get my goat.” 

Harry shook his head with a bemused smile and turned, tugging Louis along. “I really don’t know why I’m even talking to you. Let’s go say hello.”

Louis stayed behind Harry, following him into the room. Harry was greeted warmly, Jason coming over first, hugging him tightly, then a few other team members said hello with hugs and handshakes. 

“This is Louis,” Harry said, stepping aside so Louis was in their line of view. “He's a little excited to meet you guys.” 

“Shut up, I'm not a toddler,” Louis murmured, shooting Harry an exasperated look. He held out his hand for Graham Hyatt who stood closest to him. “Hi, I'm Louis.” 

“Man, we all know who you are.” Graham shook Louis’ hand. “Big fan of your films.” 

“Thanks.” Louis couldn't help the blush creeping up his neck. “I'm a big fan of the team.” 

They went over to the benches and sat down, involving Louis in a conversation. He glanced back over his shoulder, seeing Harry and Jason stay close to each other, and exchanging a few intimate looks. It only hit Louis then, something he hadn't thought about before. He should have considered it though. 

It was more than likely that Harry had slept with his other pretend boyfriends, too. For him, that was probably just the way to go about it. He never had a real relationship while he'd been famous, so he perhaps saw it as a way to let off steam. It was only logical. 

Louis couldn't tell why, but it made his chest hurt. Not that he had hoped to be special. He didn't care enough for Harry to have a desire like that. But something was nagging him about it, and Louis couldn't put his finger on what it was.  

It wasn't important. What Harry did, or had done in his past, was none of Louis' business. It didn't concern Louis whatever was going on between them. They led completely separate lives, and if they happened to collide and have sex within the time span of their arrangement, that didn't put any strings or emotional pressure on them. It was completely casual.  

Dropping the thought, Louis focused back on the conversation. He answered a few questions about films he'd been in, then he took several selfies with some of the players.

“I'd like a picture with the whole team.” Louis took out his mobile. “If that's okay.” 

“Sure,” Graham said, waving Jason over. “Let's take a picture, guys!” 

Everyone gathered around Louis, and Harry grinned in a way that Louis had troubled to label any other way than fond. “I'll take it,” he offered, taking Louis' phone.  

Louis got in position, arms around the people next to him. He couldn't help the grin on his face, couldn't stop himself from practically beaming into the camera. Harry took the photos with his own mobile, while Louis’ was securely tucked away in the pocket of Harry's jeans.  

When the team's coach came in, Harry and Louis took their leave, thanking the players again and wishing them good luck. Louis waited at the door while Harry hugged Jason once more.  

“Here.” Harry handed Louis his mobile back when they were out of the changing room. 

“You didn't even take pictures with it.” 

Harry shrugged. “I didn't know how to find and open the camera. It was easier and quicker using mine. I'll send you the pictures.” 

Louis hummed, sliding the mobile into the back pocket of his jeans shorts. “That'd be nice.” 

“No worries. You'll get your fan pictures.” Harry held the door for Louis, letting him go through first. 

They were led up to the VIP section of the ranks, where a lot of other prominent people were already seated. Louis spotted Liam and went straight for the free seat next to him.

“Hi, love,” he said, patting Liam's knee. “How are you today?” 

“Tired.” Liam yawned as he eyed Louis up from head to toe. “You look… loose.” 

Louis almost choked on his own spit. “What?” 

“Saw you two leave together.” Liam nodded in Harry's direction. He was talking to some bloke Louis had never seen before. “That looked like you two got it on.” 

“As if.” Louis snorted, taking his eyes off Harry. After the conversation he had had with Liam last night, he wouldn't admit to giving in so quickly. “We just put on a show because he was worried people could interpret my conversation with Chris the wrong way.” 

Liam lifted a brow. “There’s nothing more to it?” 

“We split up at the lift. Went to separate rooms.” Louis watched the people on the field preparing the game. “I'm not interested in him.” 

“Well, I guess you're both good actors.” 

Louis nodded. “You could say that.” 

“He seems like he’s your type, you know.” Liam kept his eyes on Harry, pursing his lips a little. “I thought you’d give it a try. Then again.” He turned his face back to Louis. “I’d think you’d want something serious. Steady. For your first.” 

“Yeah. Absolutely.” There was no way in hell Louis could tell Liam that he had slept with Harry. People didn’t do that -- sleep with just anyone. People waited for the right one. And yet, Louis had been controlled by his cock, and had thrown every responsible thought overboard. “I want something serious. Which reminds me,” he added, changing the topic. “Did Zayn text?” 

Liam sighed, shaking his head slightly. “No. I haven’t heard from him, and I don’t have it in me to text first.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Louis said. He squeezed Liam’s knee. “I think you’ve made your point, and it’s on him to react now.” 

“I guess,” Liam agreed, his voice very quiet. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Louis turned, seeing Harry standing next to him. “Who else would I want to have sit by my side, if not my lovely pretend boyfriend?” 

Harry smiled, shaking his head lightly as he sat down. “I could think of a few people.” 

“Me, too.” Louis waited a moment, not happy with that answer. He looked at Harry, finding that Harry still had his eyes on him. “Sitting next to you isn’t too shabby, though.” 

“Yeah?” Harry asked, his smile growing a little wider. 

“Yeah.” Louis shrugged, rolling his eyes. “You’re all right, I guess.” 

“Likewise,” Harry said, resting his hand over Louis’ thigh. It was a possessive gesture. The touch was warm, Louis’ skin prickling with it; remembering how Harry had moved his fingers over Louis’ skin last night. 

Harry kept his hand there throughout the whole game, and Louis couldn’t say he minded it. 

+++

He minded it, however, when Harry came out of his cabin, dressed in nothing but tiny, green swimming trunks. His hair was tied in a messy bun on top of his head, a few curls falling loose. There was a bruise above his hip, purple and blue, and Louis was sure he could make out the shape of his own fingers. 

The yacht rocked gently along the waves of the Pacific Ocean. They were far out on the sea, and not a single piece of land was in sight. There were no other boats; just the wide, open sea, and the sun beating down from a crystal blue sky. 

“Are those turtles?” Harry asked as he sat down on the sunbed next to Louis’. 

Louis looked down at his own swimming trunks, light blue turtles printed onto the dark blue fabric. Then, he looked back at Harry, seeing dark green turtles printed onto his light green trunks. 

“Good taste, L.A.,” he said, releasing a commendatory whistle. 

“Stop calling me that.” Harry poked Louis’ side. He didn’t really look bothered, so Louis decided it was okay to tease him. He had a feeling that secretly, harry even liked it. 

“Did you really go as far as matching swimming trunks?” Oli asked, rolling over on his own sunbed. 

“It’s not like we arranged this.” Louis put down his mobile. “It’s pure coincidence.” 

“Looks like you two have more in common than you’ve thought,” Barbara commented. She handed Harry a bottle of sunscreen. “Can you do my back?” 

Harry complied, and Louis watched him run his hands over Barbara’s back. There was nothing sensual or even sexual about it, and yet, Louis felt himself getting a little unfocused, his skin itching with the yearning for Harry’s touch. 

All day yesterday had been a complete tease. Louis had hoped for any sign that Harry wanted to repeat the night before. However, at the end of the day, Harry had gone to his room without a word or sign for Louis. Whenever Louis came too close, Harry seemed to get nervous, but he didn’t seem to be interested in sleeping with Louis again. 

That drove Louis insane. He was sure that Harry was interested, but he could tell that Harry deliberately stayed away. Louis couldn’t explain why. They had been good together; there had been an undeniable chemistry and Louis didn’t know why they shouldn’t make use of that. 

After the football game, they had gone to celebrate England’s win with the team and a few other people. Liam’s moodiness had rubbed off on Louis and Harry hadn’t been in the mood to drink, either. He had stuck to Jason’s side for most of the night, and Louis still wasn’t sure what to think of that. 

Drinking and getting wasted would have been fine, though. They were off for the next two days, and had nothing else planned but relaxing on this yacht. Except for the occasional paparazzi invasion to document how loved-up they were. That didn’t require much work from their side, however. 

“I’m going for a swim,” Barbara said. She got up from her sunbed, looking at them. “You wanna join?” 

“I’m good, thanks.” Louis waved her off. 

Harry only shook his head, flopping down onto his back. 

Oli got up and followed her to the ladder. 

“He’s into her,” Harry said, eyes closed and arms crossed behind his head. 

Louis watched Oli jump into the water, hearing him scream in excitement like a big kid. “I guess, yeah.” 

“He doesn’t stand a chance.” Harry stretched out his legs. Long legs, Louis noticed, and well formed. He ought to look ridiculous in those tiny shorts, but Louis couldn’t help but find it hot. 

“You think so?” he asked, remembering their conversation. 

“I’m sure, yes.” Harry shrugged. “She’s looking for something else.” 

“Maybe she’ll give him a chance, though,” Louis mused. 

“She could.” Harry hummed. “Like a pastime.”

“Like you do?” Louis turned his face to look at Harry’s. 

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Come on, Styles.” Louis ignored how his heart rate picked up speed. “You’re sleeping with all of your pretend boyfriends, aren’t you?” 

For a moment, Harry didn’t reply. “What gives you that impression?” 

“The way you were around Jason? Very telling.” 

“I don’t know what was telling about the way I acted around him, but I haven’t slept with Jason.” Harry sat up, blinking into the sun. “I haven’t slept with any of them, actually. The other night--- that was a glitch.” 

Louis forced himself to stay still. “A glitch?” 

“I mean,” Harry started, speaking very slowly, as if he was pondering his words carefully. “Whatever was going on in my mind, it was a one-time thing, right? We were both a little tipsy and we definitely got riled up. It’s nothing permanent.” 

A mistake, Louis thought. He didn’t say it, though. He didn’t need to. Harry’s words had been clear enough. 

“I’m more of a relationship guy,” Harry went on. “I don’t usually have one-night stands.” 

“Me neither,” Louis mumbled. It was the only true thing he could say right now. If Harry knew the whole story, he’d probably freak out. As much as Louis had wanted to dislike Harry, he knew him well enough by now to know that Harry would feel pressured by being Louis’ first. It wasn’t the kind of thing he’d take easy. It was one of the things Louis had come to like about him. “It was good, though.” 

Harry stared at him for a moment, and Louis wasn’t sure he’d gone too far with that comment. “It was,” he agreed, then. “Really good.” 

Louis laughed lightly. “Glad we got it out of the way.” 

Harry hummed. “At the end of the day, I’m looking at starting a serious relationship in January, you know. That’s the kind of thing I want. Something serious, something steady.” 

“Yeah, I get it.” Louis looked into the clear, empty sky. There were still two months until then, and Harry was free to do whatever he wanted in those two months. It wasn’t like he was cheating on Luke. 

Why did Harry make it sound like he had, though? 

“Do you feel guilty?” Louis asked. “Because of Luke?” 

“We’re not together.” Harry turned around on his sunbed, stretching out his limbs. “So, no. We don’t have an arrangement, or anything like that. I just wish January came sooner, so we can see each other more often.” 

It stung. Louis wanted to ignore it, but that stung. He was simply a place holder, and the worst thing about it was that he wouldn’t mind being a replacement until Harry wasn’t going to need him anymore. It seemed, however, like Harry didn’t have any interest in that. 

Louis could accept that. Sure, he’d have liked to explore whatever chemistry they had. It had been years since Louis had felt so attracted to anyone. He could find something better, though. Harry fit him on a physical level, but emotionally, they didn’t belong to each other. Louis could surely find someone who fit him on every level. 

Just like Harry had, apparently. 

“You’ll be good together,” Louis murmured, closing his eyes. “You seem to fit each other.” 

“Yeah.” Harry’s voice was low. There was something Louis couldn’t read, didn’t know how to interpret. A slight tilt in his tone, a tremble in his words. “We do.” 

+++

Harry sighed, staring at the ceiling of his cabin.

Yesterday had been awful. He had thought about drowning himself in the sea several times. The thing was, he wasn’t supposed to feel about Louis Tomlinson the way he did. Harry was supposed to be over it, done with it, unaffected. 

Instead, each time Louis had turned over in the sunlight, his skin had reflected pure gold, and Harry had wondered if it would feel as warm as it looked; if it would taste of honey and butterscotch. Louis’ skin was the colour of butterscotch. 

Those thoughts were driving him crazy. He wasn’t supposed to think in poetic terms of Louis’ bloody skin. Also, he very much knew what it tasted like; Harry had had his lips on Louis’ skin not too long ago, and he very well knew that it did  _ not _ taste like butterscotch. 

Sitting up, Harry ran his hands over his face. He tried to get those images off his mind. The sun was already up in the sky, its rays warm on Harry’s back. Maybe he’d have more luck today, and his libido wouldn’t go into a frenzy each time Harry’s eyes landed on Louis’ half-naked body. 

After he had pulled on his swimming trunks, Harry left the cabin and found everyone on deck, sitting around a table and sharing breakfast. They hadn’t taken many people onto the yacht, so that it would remain a relaxing trip. Mostly, though, because from outside it was supposed to look like Harry and Louis were all by themselves. 

Harry plopped down next to Louis. “Good morning.” 

Louis acknowledged him with a nod. His hair was messy and there were indents from the sheets on his skin. He looked sleep-soft, eyes barely open and hands curled around a mug. 

“Should we go for a swim before we eat?” Barbara asked, kicking Harry’s feet beneath the table. 

“I could use a swim to properly wake up.” Louis yawned, putting down the mug. 

“I don’t know.” Harry looked from Barbara to Louis and back. “Isn’t it dangerous? You know, because of the jellyfish?” 

“It’s not jellyfish season yet,” Barbara said. “They told us the water’s too cold.” 

“You can never know.” Harry pursed his lips. 

“Don’t be a scaredy cat, L.A.,” Louis teased him. “We all went for a swim yesterday, and we’re all still very much alive and well.” 

Harry looked around the table. “And yet, Oli is missing.” 

Louis laughed, eyes looking a little more awake now. “I locked him in his cabin, actually.” 

“Why would you do that?” Barbara asked, taking off her sunglasses, so she could openly frown at Louis.

“Because it’s funny.” Louis shrugged and stood up. “Let’s go for a swim.” 

Barbara chuckled and sprinted ahead, jumping off the yacht into the clear blue water. Harry followed, stopping at the edge and looking back over his shoulder. Louis was right behind him, hands resting on his hips. 

“You go first,” Harry said. 

“So you can back down?” Louis shook his head. “No way.” 

Harry pouted, looking into the water. He tried to make out any moving objects, but all he could see was blue and green. “Is it really safe?” 

“Just jump, L.A.” Louis put a hand on Harry’s back, nudging him forwards. “It’s safe.” 

Harry leaned back a little, into Louis’ touch.

“Hey.” Louis’ hand moved up a little, carefully rubbing between Harry’s shoulders. “If you really don’t wanna do it, you don’t have to. No one’s forcing you, love.” 

Love. Harry turned his face to Louis. He had never called Harry any endearments before. Not that it meant anything, because Louis literally called everyone love. Yet, he had never called Harry that before. 

“I know,” Harry replied. “I guess it’s okay.” 

“Together?” Louis asked. 

For some odd reason, that actually helped Harry’s nerves to calm down. He nodded. “Okay. “ 

Louis positioned himself next to Harry. “One, two, three.” 

They both jumped at the same time, and hit the still surface together. The cold ocean water engulfed Harry, and he hurried to get his head back in the air. 

“What the bloody hell,” he swore once he could breathe again. “It’s freezing cold.” 

Louis laughed. “Well, we could’ve warned you of that.” 

“I’m gonna go back on board.” Harry swam over to the ladder. “And get my winter coat.” 

Barbara stopped him, holding his ankle. “You just need to move a little.” 

“We’ll help you.” Louis put his hands on Harry’s shoulder, and next thing Harry knew, he was being ducked under water. 

He came back up, spluttering. “You’ll pay for that, Tomlinson!” 

He heard Louis laugh, already swimming to the other side of the boat. Harry followed him, making quick moves to catch up. He got to grab Louis’ ankle and pulled him back, making Louis go under for a moment. When he came back up, Louis squeaked, a sound between scream and laugh, kicking his feet to get rid of Harry. 

“Let go!” he demanded, and suddenly curled up, so that he pulled Harry closer. Next, he had his hands around Harry’s wrists and freed himself. “You’re stronger than I thought.” 

Harry shoved his wet hair out of his face. “I think you know exactly how strong I am.” 

Breathing heavily, Louis moved his arms a little to stay above the water. “I have a feeling you held back there.” 

“I could always---” Harry stopped himself, realising what they were doing. They were talking about sex. They were flirting. 

“I guess you couldn’t,” Louis said, eyes fixed on Harry’s face. 

There was nothing he could say to that, was there? So Harry splashed Louis with water, watching him duck away. 

“You little shit.” Louis splashed twice as much back at Harry. 

They started another fight. Only this time, Harry was hyper aware of every time his and Louis’ skin touched. He was so warm in contrast to the cold water, and his skin just as silky. Harry let his fingers linger for a moment, just long enough that Louis wouldn’t notice. 

“Is that a jellyfish?” Louis asked, gasping. 

Harry crowded into Louis’ space, looking around hectically. He curled his fingers around Louis’ arm, pulling him close. “What? Where?” 

Louis laughed, patting Harry’s hip. “I win.” 

With that, Louis detached himself from Harry and swam back to the ladder. 

“You’re insufferable!” Harry told him, following. 

“So are you, L.A.,” Louis replied. 

Harry watched him climb the ladder, eyes on Louis’ bum. Sue him, it was a nice view, and Harry didn’t feel bad for looking. No one had to know about it. “Stop calling me that.” 

“But it suits you so well.” Louis looked back over his shoulder. “It’s a shame I didn’t come up with it sooner.” 

“So I’ll start calling you McDonald’s, then.” Harry climbed the ladder, too. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his skin. 

“It’s Ronald for my friends.” Louis smirked. He dried his hair with his own towel. 

“You’re so funny, aren’t you?” Harry scruffed. 

“I’d like to think so. Tell me,” Louis asked, gesturing at himself. “Why am I McDonald’s?” 

“Because that’s something I don’t like,” Harry replied. Louis could use some of his own medicine. “If you call me something you hate, I’ll call you something I hate.” 

Louis laughed, walking back over to the table that was now set with breakfast. “What’s wrong with you? Who doesn’t like McDonald’s?” 

“Me.” Harry joined him. He filled a plate with scrambled eggs and beans. 

“I should’ve known.” Louis filled his own plate. “You probably eat kale and sprouts.” 

They kept bantering back and forth like that. Louis didn’t have to know that, of course, Harry liked McDonald’s. Every now and then, at least. He knew that he catered to some L.A. clichés, but he’d never watched them as something bad. 

It probably shouldn’t bother him so much, just because Louis didn’t like the city. It wasn’t Harry’s business, and he was sure Louis didn’t mean any harm calling Harry that. It was a joke, and Harry treated it as that. 

None of this was serious. 

Harry watched Louis eat his breakfast, laughing when Oli finally showed up -- completely furious, of course. Somehow, he managed to calm Oli down, and didn’t even get into the crossfire. Apparently, Oli was used to those kinds of antics. Maybe, it was just Louis’ way of showing affection. 

Affection, Harry repeated in his mind, and thought of the way Louis had teased him earlier. He thought of his hand on Louis’ thigh, thought of Louis’ weight in his lap. He thought of Louis calling Harry endearments. Most of it had happened in good fun, but somehow, Louis managed to make it feel so genuine. 

He was honest. 

Being with Louis was fun. He made Harry laugh, and he was actually sweet and aware of the people in his life. Louis liked to take care, and Harry liked how he wasn’t forcing that onto people, but always considered what they needed. He could be a tease, yes, but a lovable one. 

Louis turned, and when he found Harry stare at him, he winked. It was easy, light, and most of all, genuine. It wasn’t an act. That hadn’t been for anyone else. Just Harry. 

Whatever it was they had going on, Harry was afraid it was actual affection between them. 

=== 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :) <3


	8. Desperate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! Okay, this is the longest it took me yet to update... 3 whole weeks. I'm sorry!! I'll be better with chapter 9!! 
> 
> This chapter comes with all the tension and desire and desperate longing for each other. And yet, it's somehow also the chapter where these two finally get it together and admit that they don't really hate each other ;) 
> 
> Have fun reading <3

 

“What do you think?” Louis turned in front of the mirror, looking over his shoulder to check the reflection of his backside.

“I chose the outfit, Lou.” Lottie crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Of course I think it's great.”

“But do I look good in it?”

“Well, I've tried my best.” She patted his shoulder. “I did everything I could.”

“You make it sound like styling me is the hardest chore on earth.” Louis adjusted his tie again.

“Maybe it is.” With hairspray she fixed Louis’ hair one more time, then she checked her watch. “They’ll be here to pick you up any minute now.”

Louis put on his shoes, feeling a little sick. Film premieres were always making him nervous. And this one was especially nerve-racking because it was his first big role in a critically-acclaimed film. This was not about whether people would laugh watching the film, or if they’d go out with their minds lighter than before they’d watched it. It was about whether Louis’ acting was good enough to make them relate, and to make them believe the struggles portrayed.

“Good God.” Louis looked up when he heard Lottie gasp those words. She put a hand over her chest and stared at her mobile phone. “Harry looks absolutely stunning.”

Frowning, Louis stood up. “How would you know that? He can’t arrive without me?”

Lottie tilted her mobile away, shooing Louis away. “Babs sent me a picture of him.”

“Why would she do that?”

“We coordinated your outfits.” Lottie shrugged. “You’re arriving as a couple, so your suits should somehow fit together.”

Louis snorted. “You’re making us a cheesy cliché.”

“No worries, you’re taking care of that all by yourself.” Lottie folded up one of her own dresses, placing it back in the wardrobe.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean.” She hit his arm, making a clicking sound with her tongue. “You’ll make the suit look wrinkly.”

Louis huffed, but turned back to the mirror to straighten out his blazer.

“By the way,” Lottie said, looking over her shoulder. “You owe me some money.”

“Do I?” Louis asked, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

“Yeah. I was right about Harry.” She grinned, turning back to her wardrobe again. “You totally fell for him.”

Frowning, Louis looked at his own reflection again. “How did you get that impression?”

“I’m not stupid, Lou.” Lottie closed the wardrobe and threw an arm around Louis’ shoulders. Their eyes met in the mirror. “I know you. You like him.”

Louis held her gaze. “I do.”

She smiled. “Is it serious?”

“I don’t know yet.” Louis inhaled, his heart beating high in his throat. It was the first time he had admitted liking Harry out loud. “He’s just really--- lovely.”

“I told you so.” Lottie patted his shoulder.

She had. Louis smiled back at her. This was Lottie, after all, and there was no use in pretending. She’d know, and she’d hold it against Louis if he’d even just try lying. Being honest was the better option here.

“It’s not like I’m madly in love, Lotts,” he reminded her. “But I admit I was wrong. He’s pretty great.”

Lottie hummed. “I’m sure he’d say the same about you.”

“I hope so.” Louis shrugged. He really did. Ever since they had left Australia, he had come to care about what Harry Styles thought about him. “I mean--”

He was cut off by the doorbell ringing. Lottie ran her hand through Louis’ hair one last time, then she hurried over to the door to open it. Louis followed her and kissed her cheek before he went downstairs where Alberto waited.

“Isn’t Lottie accompanying you?” he asked, walking ahead.

“She’s got a flight to Tokyo in two hours.” Louis looked over his shoulder and saw her watching from the living room window. “She can’t make it.”

“So, no family in attendance this time.” Alberto opened the limousine’s back door.

There wasn’t. Louis frowned, sliding onto the backseat. It was his first film premiere without any family member there. The thought was scary, because this premiere was his most important so far.

“Hi.”

Louis turned his head when the door was closed and saw Harry on the other side, smiling gently. His hair was tied back by a silky scarf, and he wore a maroon suit with a grey, floral print. It perfectly fit Louis’ grey suit. Lottie had even managed to pick a tie in the exact maroon colour of Harry’s suit.

“You look nice,” Harry said.

Louis swallowed thickly, clutching his hands together to keep himself from reaching out to touch Harry. His shirt was gaping open, the tattoos on his chest peeking out. Louis hadn’t had the time to properly inspect them when they had---

“Thanks,” he said, shaking the thought, the memory off. “You, too.”

The car started moving, and Harry reached out to touch Louis’ hand. His nails were painted black. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Louis admitted. “This one’s quite important to me.”

Harry hummed. “Yeah. I get that. Hey,” he added then. Louis looked up at that, and God -- he couldn’t look at Harry. He was so, so fit. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Harry looked straight into Louis’ eyes, and for a moment, every single moment of them in that hotel room came back. Every second they had shared, every touch, every kiss. Louis couldn’t stand it.

“That’s lovely, L.A., but I’m not your damsel in distress.” Louis patted Harry’s hand before he withdrew his own.

Harry snorted and leaned back in his seat. “You’re definitely not.”

“I don’t need to be pampered.” Louis cleared his throat, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Harry’s fingers on his skin. It’d be forgotten in a moment.

“Sure not,” Harry replied, looking out of the window.

“What’s that tone?” Louis raised a brow.

Harry turned back to him, an amused expression on his face. “You love being pampered.”

“Excuse you.” Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What gives you that impression?”

“Spending a whole month with you.” Harry shrugged.

Louis shook his head. “You have no idea, Styles.”

“I guess, yeah.” Harry bit his bottom lip, obviously holding back a grin. “Whoever’s gonna be your boyfriend will have to be really good at pampering you.”

“What the---”

“You’re a cuddler,” Harry interrupted him, and suddenly, he looked much more serious. “You like to cuddle.”

Louis frowned. “How do you--” He fell silent, and bit his lip. Harry knew because they had slept with each other. They might had only exchanged handjobs and messy kisses, but it had been sex. Two rounds. And Louis had fallen asleep on Harry.

He wasn’t the kind of person that lit a cigarette after sex and left the bed. Louis was the kind of person that held onto the warmth as long as possible. He couldn’t remember, but he had probably fallen asleep and cuddled up to Harry. How would he know? Harry had been gone in the morning.

Louis cleared his throat again. “You can’t blame me for the things I do while asleep.”

“Who said I blamed you?” Harry asked.

Louis opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realised he had no idea what to say. Harry smiled at him, knowingly, and in that typical smug way of his.

“You like being pampered yourself,” Louis said, pointing at Harry. “You like it when people take care of you, and you like your hair being played with.”

“I contemplated paying someone to do that,” Harry said, no shame in his tone. “You know? Like a personal assistant, but all they do is play with my hair.”

“Oh my God.” Louis groaned.

“Yeah, that’d be a bit diva-like, so I dismissed the idea.” Harry shrugged, looking genuinely sad about it. “It would’ve fit your image of me, though, right?”

Louis laughed. “Absolutely.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Harry said.

The car stopped and Louis sat up, waiting for the door to be opened, so he could step out. Loud noises, an ocean of voices suddenly hit him and before he moved onto the red carpet, Louis turned around again.

“I’m not disappointed, at all,” he said, holding Harry’s gaze for a moment. “Not a single bit.”

The noise increased when Louis got out of the car. Flashlights hit him, and people yelled his name. Louis smiled and turned around, holding out his hand for Harry. Gracefully, Harry slid out of the backseat of the limousine and placed his hand in Louis’. The noise intensified even more.

Hand in hand, they walked down the red carpet to the theatre, stopping every few metres for pictures. Louis put his arm around Harry’s waist, resting his fingers against Harry’s hip. He could only imagine just how good they looked together; in terms of looks, they made an attractive pair.

They stopped for interviews, sticking closely together, just like they had been advised by Julia. Tonight was about the film, but also to present them as a couple. This event was important for their careers, but also for their relationship. Their first shared project.

Not that there were any more to come.

“Harry, Louis,” a man said, holding his microphone in front of Louis’ face. “Congrats on opening night. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Louis replied. “You know, it’s always a little nerve-racking, seeing the finished product for the first time, and waiting for the audience’s verdict. Overall, it’s a good feeling, though.”

“You’ve got Harry by your side.” The man winked. “He can calm you down.”

“We’ve got each other,” Harry said. When Louis glanced at him, he found Harry looking at him already. “It’s nice to have someone’s hand to hold during a time like this. To have someone by your side who understands exactly how it feels.”

The man nodded. “You would both know. It’s a first in this genre for you, though, isn’t it, Louis?”

“It is.” Louis shuffled a little closer to Harry. “I hope my acting will be convincing enough.”

“It is.” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand, and looked the interviewer in the eye. “He’s done really well, and I’m sure a lot of people will be surprised by this side of him. You know, not in a bad way, but in a way, that’ll make them go, ‘I didn’t know Louis Tomlinson could do this.’ He was absolutely brilliant in his role.”

Louis had to swallow around a lump in his throat, smiling through the rest of the interview before the moved on inside. Harry waved to the crowd again before the doors closed behind them and the chatter and excitement in the lobby engulfed them.

“Did you mean that?” Louis asked. He still had his hand in Harry’s, even though it wasn’t necessary anymore. This way, Harry couldn’t escape him.

Harry turned, blinking. “What?”

“About my acting.”

“Oh.” Harry broke their eye-contact and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, would I? I haven’t seen you act much, actually.”

Louis’ heart sank a little, the beating calming down significantly. “Why did you say that?”

“Because they’d expect me to.” Harry looked around the room, probably trying to find someone who’d unchain him from Louis until the film started.

“Yeah, of course.” Louis swallowed, putting on a grin. He untangled his fingers from Harry’s. “There are some friends over there. I’m gonna say hi.”

“Sure.” Harry looked completely unbothered, pointing in the different direction. “I’m gonna say hi to a few friends over there.”

Why was it bothering Louis so much? Harry had never thought highly of Louis’ acting. It had been one of the first conflicts between them, and that had never bothered Louis. He knew what he was worth and what he was capable of, and he didn’t need Harry Styles to validate him. It didn’t matter what Harry thought of him.

Louis pursed his lips, angry with himself. It shouldn’t matter, it really shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care for what Harry thought of him, and if Harry had changed his mind about his image of Louis. Yet, here he was, bothered and upset that Harry Styles thought so lowly of him.

He was truly pathetic.

+++

Harry watched Louis chat with some woman on the other side of the room. She was probably from the press and trying to get some exclusive information from Louis. He was probably tipsy enough to give it to her.

Louis had every reason in the world to get drunk right now. He’d been the star of the night, earning all the praise and compliments. A month ago, Harry would’ve been bitter about it, but today, all he felt was some odd pride and a whole deal of affection.

Louis had been brilliant in his role. There was no way Harry could deny that. He’d been convincing and touching, a real person on the screen. He'd brought that character to life in a way no one else could have.

Watching Louis tilt his head and grin at the woman, Harry pursed his lips. He had known it. Getting to know Louis over the past month had shown Harry what kind of person he was. Louis was hardworking, genuine and driven. There was no way that he'd do anything half-heartedly. He put his soul in his work, and Harry had known that it would show in this film, too, before he had even seen it.  

Maybe he should tell Louis. It was one of those things that had stood between them from the beginning. It was a tricky situation, though, because Louis could probably take it the complete wrong way. Harry had to find another form to let him know without coming across as patronising.

“What are you thinking about?”

Harry turned, finding Liam approaching him. He carried two glasses of champagne and held out one for Harry.

“Thanks.” Harry took the glass from Liam. “I’m glad you could come. It probably means a lot to Louis.”

“He’d never admit that.” Liam glanced over at Louis. “How come you’re not swarmed by people?”

Harry laughed. “I wondered about that too. They’re all queuing for Louis tonight.”

“I hope you’re not mad about that?” Liam pursed his lips, looking a little concerned.

“No, of course not.” Harry looked at the champagne sparkling in his glass. “He was brilliant in that role. So brilliant.”

Liam hummed. “He’s always been that brilliant.”

“Of course you’d say that.” Harry smiled to himself before looking at Liam. “I’ve done him wrong, I admit. The kind of films he did before, though, didn’t do him justice.”

“I get what you mean.” Liam nodded and leaned against the counter behind him. “And I’m glad you two could set aside whatever stood between you.”

Harry’s mind briefly flashed back to how Louis had kissed him, to those slender fingers burning his skin, moist breath fanning out against Harry’s neck. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, me too.”

“How about we sit down?” Liam pointed in the direction of a table, and Harry spotted Zayn amongst a few other people.

“Are you two okay?” Harry asked, frowning a little.

Liam shrugged, walking ahead. “We’ve come to an agreement, I’d say.”

Harry knew it wasn’t his place to ask questions. He kept quiet and followed Liam to the table, greeting everyone in a friendly manner before sitting down on one of the empty chairs.

“Congrats, Harry.” Cara said. She had just recently started her own acting career after having been in the model business for years. “It’s a great film.”

The others chimed in, all complimenting his acting. Harry smiled and thanked them, feeling his cheeks blush. That was something that’d probably never change. He loved being an actor, but handling praise was tough. He knew he wasn’t too shabby, but who actually said those things out loud? He toasted to them with a champagne glass, thanking them again.

“What’s in the cards for you next?” Zayn asked.

“I’ve actually signed for a film a few days ago.” Harry moved his glass between his fingers. “Filming starts in January.”

In January, everything was going to go back to normal. He’d be filming instead of promoting, doing his actual job. Instead of flinging around a fake relationship, he’d get to try start a real, committed relationship with someone he was sure he could love. Someone who Harry knew he liked, and who Harry knew was basically made for him.

“Would you mind?”

Harry looked up, seeing Louis standing next to him, pointing at the empty chair next to Harry’s. He slowly shook his head, gesturing for Louis to sit down.

“It’s all yours.”

Louis slid onto the chair and Harry kept his eyes on him while he greeted a few people. He seemed to know most of the people, hands lingering for a moment, eyes bright and his smile so wide for them. Harry only noticed his own hand came to rest on Louis’ knee when Louis turned his head to him, looking a little confused.

There was no one they had to put on a show for. Harry couldn’t even explain how his hand had moved there, or why. It had just happened. Louis kept talking to the bloke across from him, apparently not minding Harry’s hand where it was. He shifted a little, his body moving closer to Harry’s, his hand removing Harry’s. For a moment, Harry’s breath caught in his throat, but then Louis rested Harry’s hand back down, just a little higher up on his thigh.

Harry left it right there.

He tuned back into the conversation going on about him, making a comment on what Liam and Cara were just talking about. They laughed at his joke, and Liam told a story about how he and Zayn had recently got lost in Venice, causing a national security frenzy in Italy.

One by one, people left the aftershow party, and after a while, Harry found himself alone with Louis, Zayn and Liam. He watched Zayn and Liam discuss something quietly, a frown etched onto Zayn’s face. Harry quickly looked away, feeling like he was spying on an intimate moment.

“Guess it’s time to go,” Louis said before he emptied his glass. “I’m knackered.”

Harry looked around the room. “There’s barely anyone still here.”

“Hey, Li.” Louis leaned back in his chair, looking past Harry. “Should we leave?”

Liam blinked at him. “We?”

“Yeah, I mean. I’m staying at yours?” Louis tilted his head. “Lottie’s bathroom is being renovated while she’s in Japan. I thought I’d crash at yours.”

“You should’ve told me.” Liam sat up straight in his chair. “I’m staying with Zayn, and left my keys with Ruth. She’s staying here for a few weeks with some of her friends.”

“Oh.” Louis raised his brows in surprise.

“Isn’t there anywhere---” Liam started, but Louis interrupted him.

“I’ll just stay at a hotel.” Louis shrugged, making a dismissive gesture. “No big deal.”

“You could stay at mine,” Harry said. He waited for Louis to look at him, before he added, “I wouldn’t mind. You let me stay at yours in London, too.”

“And how did that go?” Louis laughed dryly. He looked at Harry’s hand still resting over his thigh.

“We talked about that, didn’t we?” Harry slowly removed his hand, his palm feeling oddly cold without the touch. “You’ll just stay in my guest room for the time we do promo here in L.A. It’s a separate flat, even. You won’t even have to see me, if you don’t want to.”

Louis smiled warily. “But I’d like to. See you, I mean.”

“Cool.” Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest. “It’s much nicer to have meals together, anyway.”

“Yeah.” Louis broke their eye contact, looking at his hands. He seemed to ponder Harry’s offer. Then, he nodded. “If you don’t mind, I guess that’d be a good solution.”

Harry let go of his breath, nodding his head, too. “I think so, too.”

+++

Harry hadn’t lied. His guest room was really more of a guest flat. Louis had a living room and kitchen outside his bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. If he wanted, he could avoid Harry altogether. If he _wanted_.

Louis sighed and pulled the jumper over his head. His hair was still a little wet from his shower and even though he had slept for seven hours, he still felt incredibly tired. Fortunately, for today, they didn’t have any promotion scheduled. Julia had booked them onto Niall Horan’s cooking show in a few days, leaving them one day to get some rest from the premiere.

Silently, he left his room, checking for any noise. From the end of the corridor, he could hear music playing, as well as some clinking noises. Following them, Louis found Harry in the kitchen, his back to the door, a pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. His hips were swaying along to the Backstreet Boys song playing, and he quietly sang along to the words.

The top half of Harry’s hair was tied back, the rest of his hair curling around his neck. He wore shorts and socks, as well as an oversized jumper with a bee printed on its back. It looked comfortable, and when Harry reached for the top shelf, Louis saw a bit of skin and the waistband of Harry’s underwear over his hips. It disappeared again when Harry wiggled his bum, one hand punching the air in time with the beat of the song.

Louis leaned against the doorframe and waited for Harry to notice him. The show he put on right now was just too precious to end it with startling Harry. He lifted the lid on the pot next to the pan, checking on its content. With a nod, Harry swirled around, and the moment he saw Louis, he froze, eyes a little wide, and his mouth opened, but no tone was coming out anymore.

“Sorry,” he said, lowering the spatula in his hand.

“Don’t be.” Louis stepped into the kitchen. “It’s your home.”

Harry went to a cupboard and took out two plates. “The show’s not perfected yet, though.”

“It’ll be burned into my memory for the rest of my life, don’t worry.” Louis took the plates from Harry and put them on the counter.

Laughing, Harry handed him the cutlery. “I’m unforgettable, huh?”

“You could say that.” Louis sat down on one of the stools, watching Harry go back to check on the pan. He probably had no idea how right he really was about that.

“How did you sleep?” Harry asked, glancing at Louis over his shoulder.

“Good.” Louis put his arms on the counter, watching Harry. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry came over with the pan and shovelled scrambled eggs and bacon onto both plates.

“A proper English breakfast.” Louis nodded his head in appreciation when Harry added baked beans from the pot. “Who would’ve thought.”

Harry raised a brow, bringing over two mugs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I thought you’d have kale smoothies for breakfast.”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” Harry grinned and opened the fridge, taking out two glasses with a disgusting looking, green fluid in it. “Of course I made you a kale smoothie.”

“You’re bonkers if you think I’d drink that.” Louis leaned back when Harry placed the glass in front of him.

“Just try it, Louis. It’s healthy.”

“Not if I stuffed myself with bacon and eggs before.” Louis shook his head, carefully shoving the glass in Harry’s direction. “Double for you. Isn’t that great?”

Harry snorted and shook his head. “You could at least try it. I spent all morning in the kitchen making it for you.”

“You did _not_ just say that!” Louis had to hold back a laugh, keeping on a serious mask. Harry was unpredictable -- and very well aware of how endearing he was. Especially when he pulled the guilt card. “You’re trying to manipulate me into drinking your grass and mud mix.”

“It’s kale, spinach, banana and lemon.” Harry held out the glass for Louis. “And I’d be sad for the rest of the day if you didn’t drink it.”

For a moment, Louis hesitated. He could probably shut Harry down. Good God, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to play the game, and he wanted to pretend they were bickering like a couple, and he wanted to see Harry beam after he got Louis to drink that disgusting drink.

He took the glass and gulped down half out it, making a face afterwards. He couldn’t even describe what it tasted like; only that it certainly didn’t taste good. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Harry grinned, eyes bright with amusement. He looked so, so lovely like that. “But it’s healthy.”

“Yeah, I’d rather be unhealthy. Thanks, L.A.” Shaking himself, Louis handed the glass over to Harry. “I hope you’re happy now.”

“Making you gag on my smoothie is the best thing that happened to me today.” Harry started to laugh, but choked on it a moment later. He coughed, and looked down, sipping from his tea.

Louis swallowed thickly, quickly taking his fork to start eating. That comment was so ambiguous, and probably the dirtiest thing that had ever come out of Harry’s mouth. It seemed like Louis wasn’t the only one that had found a sexual connotation behind it.

They ate in silence for a moment, the music on the radio the only noise filling the room. Louis cleared his throat after a moment, looking at Harry again.

“You know your way around a kitchen, don’t you?” He gestured at his plate. “This is really good.”

“Thanks.” Harry smiled. “I enjoy cooking.”

“My mum asked for your scrambled eggs recipe.” Louis cut his bacon.

“It’s just scrambled eggs.” Harry laughed a little.

“They’re fluffy.” Louis pursed his lips, watching Harry. “You made them that morning at my home. Remember?”

Harry nodded. “I separate the yolks from the whites. And only whip them together before I pour it in the pan.”

“That’s it?” Louis frowned, watching his eggs. “Seems simple.”

“It is. Anyone can do that.”

Louis shook his head. “Don’t say that so easily. I can’t.”  

“Good thing you’ll be on Niall’s show in a few days. He’ll teach you.” Harry finished his breakfast, shoving his plate away. He curled his fingers around his mug.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Louis added the rest of his baked beans on top of his toast. “I’m not exactly hopeless. I just don’t enjoy cooking.”

“I’ll be there to help you.” Harry sipped his tea, watching Louis over the mug. “And Niall really makes it easy for everyone.”

“I’ll try my best not to make a fool of myself.” Louis took his mug and sipped from the tea, blinking when he realised it was exactly how he liked it. “How do you know how I take my tea?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I just noticed while we were on the road, I guess.”

“It’s perfect.” Louis looked at Harry again, seeing him smile fondly.

“So what should we do today?” Harry asked. “Any plans?”

Louis shook his head. “Not really. Don’t let me keep you from your plans, though.” He forced himself to keep a casual tone. “You’d probably want to meet Luke while you’re here.”

“Ah, yeah.” Harry lowered his gaze before he stood up to carry the plates to the dishwasher. “He’s not here. Filming in--- somewhere.”

“That’s a pity,” Louis said. He pressed his lips together, trying to ignore the rush of relief in his blood. There was no reason to feel relieved.

Harry hummed, loading the dishwasher. When he turned, his eyes were clear and his smile bright -- clearly put on. Louis had no idea when he had learned to read Harry, but that smile wasn’t genuine.

“I’ll spend the day being lazy,” Harry said, taking his mug. “Maybe watch a film, and hang around the pool for a bit.”

“Sounds great.” Louis agreed to the plan with a nod. “Mind me joining in?”

Harry led the way to his living room. “Be my guest.”

“So, what are we watching?”

“Why don’t you choose from the DVDs?” Harry pointed at one of the shelves. “I’ll go get some more tea.”

Louis went over to the shelf and inspected Harry’s DVD collection. He was sure Harry had a Netflix account, too, and that they could easily choose from there, as well. In a way, though, it suited Harry that he’d have the films he really loved on DVD.

Going through them, Louis smiled at how predictable Harry was. There were classics, Hitchcock and Audrey Hepburn right next to each other. It looked like Harry owned every single Nicholas Sparks film, too. He giggled at that when he spotted a row of familiar DVD cases.

Harry owned the films Louis acted in, and they were even placed together on the shelf.

“Found one?” Harry asked when he came back.

Louis turned to him, one of the films in his hands. Harry tilted his head, placing a pot on the sofa table.

“You own every film I ever made.”

Harry glanced at the shelf, then he nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“Why?” Louis asked. “You said you didn’t like them?”

“That’s not true.” Harry shook his head and approached Louis. “I never said that.”

“But you---”

“I said it was different from where you’re heading now.” Harry took the DVD from Louis.

Louis shook his head, not satisfied with that answer. “You said it was below the films you did.”

For a moment, Harry hesitated. He placed the DVD back on the shelf. “I did, yeah. The acting required is different.”

“See, you think it’s---”

“No,” Harry interrupted him again. “Different doesn’t mean it’s worse. They’re brilliant films, Louis. You were more than brilliant in them.”

“I-- What?” Louis couldn’t stop himself from gaping.

Harry smiled, looking a little sheepish. “I know I never let you know, and I did that on purpose. They’re not the kind of films you do now, but they were good. You made them good.” He cleared his throat. “Just like you did with _Among Wolves_.”

Louis wasn’t sure he heard right. Was Harry really saying all these things? And did he actually mean them? He looked like he meant them.

“I’m sorry for what I said when we first met. I shouldn’t have.” Harry bit his lip, looking at Louis expectantly.

“Thank you.” Louis wasn’t even ashamed his voice sounded raspy. “That means a lot, coming from you. You’re like-- I mean, you’re really good. Talented.”

Harry shook his head, blushing.

“And I’m sorry, too. It’s because you’re so good that I acted like a prick.” Louis shrugged, rubbing his hands together to calm himself. “I felt like I had to prove myself to you.”

“You don’t have to.” Harry shook his head. “And I’m glad we could kinda become friends?”

The air between them was so loaded, Louis felt like if he reached out, he could touch it. Harry looked so endearingly young, so impossibly lovely. Louis wanted to break down every damn wall between them, and kiss Harry. Kiss him mindlessly and without holding back. He wanted to tell Harry that being friends was good, all good, but that he wanted more.

Sleeping with Harry once hadn’t been nearly enough.

They were being honest with each other now, and Louis should use the opportunity to be completely honest with Harry. He didn’t have the guts, though. It was likely that Harry would turn him down, tell him how he waited for Luke, only wanted Luke. That the night with Louis had only been a glitch. A bloody _glitch_. Louis wouldn’t risk that.

“Me, too,” he replied instead. “I’m taking away a new friend from the charade, which is quite cool.”

Harry laughed quietly, visibly loosening up. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

Louis quickly turned to the shelf again. “Should we watch some Nicholas Sparks?”

“I’m always up for those.” Harry pulled one of the DVDs out.  

“Let me guess, you’re one of those people who say ‘but the book was better’, even for these films.” Louis made himself comfortable on the sofa, shoving a cushion behind his back. “Am I right?”

Laughing, Harry joined him, grabbing the remote control. “I haven’t read all of them, no.”

The film started and Harry curled up, clutching a cushion to his chest, his socked feet tucked beneath his legs. Louis smiled to himself, but bit back a comment. They talked about the film, both having seen it before, and exchanged stories about meeting the actors. After a while, they fell quiet, though. Harry had finished his tea and Louis’ had gone cold.

The film was almost over when Harry’s head tipped to the side and came to rest on Louis’ shoulder. Louis startled a little, and found Harry asleep next to him. The way he sat didn’t look comfortable to sleep in, so Louis pulled him a little closer. He shifted enough so that he could lie down and pulled Harry with him. When Harry’s head came to rest on Louis’ chest, Louis moved his hand up into Harry’s hair and gently scraped his scalp.

Harry made a small noise, but didn’t wake up. He nuzzled closer and Louis smiled. Their legs slotted together comfortably and Harry’s breath fanned out warm and evenly over Louis’ chest. It lulled Louis into sleep, too, making his lids heavy and his fingers move slower.

The last thing he noticed was Harry’s hand coming to rest over his stomach. In some odd way, the touch felt possessive.

+++

When Harry woke up, the DVD menu was playing, repeating itself over and over again. He blinked his eyes open, sighing quietly.

Louis.

He didn’t even need a moment to realise who it was he was cuddled up to. It was Louis, and Harry instantly knew. Not just because Louis was the only person in his house right now, or because he had been right there next to Harry when they had started watching the film. It was the way he breathed, the way he smelled, the way his hand rested in Harry’s nape.

They were all tangled up. One of Harry’s legs was shoved between Louis’, his arm was wound around Louis’ middle and Harry lay half on top of him. Louis had one hand resting on Harry’s arm, as if to hold him in place.

It was nice. And easy. It’d be so, so easy to lift his head and attach his mouth to Louis’ neck now. Harry licked his lips, listening to Louis’ steady heartbeat. He could give Louis a sensual wake up, running his hand beneath Louis’ jumper and over that smooth, butterscotch skin. It only needed a little shift of his leg, and he could press his thigh against Louis’ cock, giving enough pressure and friction to make Louis hard.

Harry swallowed thickly, closing his eyes again. He shouldn’t have those thoughts, shouldn’t even entertain the idea. He was supposed to think of Luke; have those kind of fantasies about Luke. And yet, it was Louis right here beside Harry. Louis who kept occupying Harry’s thoughts. How was Harry supposed to put it behind himself when Louis was always there? Always right there where Harry was?

They had talked about it. They had agreed that sleeping with each other was not an option. They had agreed that they were friends. Harry couldn’t destroy that, just because he couldn’t control his cock. He was better than that.

Detaching himself from Louis, he took a deep breath. Louis sighed in his sleep, lips slightly parted, as if they were waiting to be kissed. Harry tore his eyes away. He had to stop letting his thoughts drift in that direction.

A round in the pool could probably cool his mind off a little.

He went to his bedroom and got a pair of swimming trunks, and at the last moment took a second pair. In case Louis wanted to join him for a swim later. It was afternoon already, but still hot outside. The mansion was surrounded by trees and hedges, shielding Harry from neighbours and any curious eyes.

He got changed and dived right into the pool, closing his eyes when the cool water hit his skin. It felt soothing, calming him down a little. Waking up next to Louis had felt dangerously reminiscent of the night they had slept with each other. Then, too, Harry had been the one to walk away.

Even though they hadn’t slept with each other this time, walking away from being held by Louis felt harder each time Harry had to do it. He had to be careful, or else, at some point, he wouldn’t walk away anymore.

He couldn’t let that happen.

On his third lane, Louis came out onto the patio, rubbing one eye and looking sleepy-soft. Yawning, he approached the pool and stretched, making the muscles in his thighs and calves work. He was still barefoot like he had been this morning, and his jumper looked two sizes too big on him.

“Here you are,” he said, stopping at the edge of the pool. “You could’ve woken me.”

Harry stopped his swimming. “What for? Not like we’re on a schedule.”

Louis nodded. He sat down on the edge of the pool, letting his legs dangle in the water.

“I brought a second pair of swimming trunks if you wanna join me,” Harry said, treading water.

“I’m good.” Louis made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about me.”

Harry resumed swimming, finishing his lane. He could feel Louis’ eyes follow his every move, making his skin prickle. Harry glanced at him every now and then, finding that Louis was, indeed, watching him. After another two lanes, Harry swam over, slightly out of breath.

“Those trunks are tiny,” Louis said.

Harry looked down on himself, his swimming trunks a blurry, yellow splash beneath the water surface. “They’re good for swimming when they’re tiny.”

Louis hummed, slowly kicking his feet in the water. With the sun beating down on them, the only sound the wind and the birds, and the water splashing, Harry felt at ease like he hadn’t in a long time. This was peaceful.

He curled a hand around Louis’ ankle, making him stop his motion. Louis’ eyes locked on Harry’s and for a moment time was suspended, everything else vanished from Harry’s senses. All he saw was Louis.

“Don’t you dare, L.A.” Louis narrowed his eyes.

Grinning, Harry grabbed Louis’ ankle more firmly. “Too late.”

With that, Harry pulled him hard once, and Louis went flying into the water. Harry laughed, quickly swimming away, because he knew that Louis was going to be out for revenge.

“You little shit,” Louis spluttered when he came back up, his hair plastered to his forehead. “I’m gonna get you.”

Harry squealed when Louis caught up to him. His arms came around Harry’s waist and he pulled Harry underwater, his grip so firm, every bit of Harry’s resistance was in vain. When they came back up, Harry coughed and laughed at the same time. Louis loosened up his grip only to attack Harry’s sides with tickles.

The fabric of Louis’ jumper was rough against Harry’s skin, probably leaving burns. He got a hold of Louis’ hands and turned, capturing them between their chests. Louis’ eyes sparkled with mischief and Harry was so out of breath, he had trouble keeping himself above water.

“You’re insufferable,” Louis said, keeping his hands still. “I should’ve known not to trust you around water.”

Harry grinned. “You played dirty in Australia. That was unfinished business.”

“No jellyfish in this pool, is there?” Louis asked.

“No way for you to cheat,” Harry confirmed. He tugged at Louis’ hands. “I win.”

“I guess you do.” Louis pulled his hands closer to his own chest and Harry followed, only then realising how close that brought them together. Louis’ eyes flickered to Harry’s lips for a second before he looked up again.

He should move away. Harry knew that he should move away, should let go of Louis. Instead, he felt frozen where he was, hands curled around Louis’ wrists, and their faces closer than they should be. He could feel Louis’ breath, and Harry licked his lips, Louis’ eyes following the movement of his tongue.

Harry tilted his head slightly, opening his mouth.

The moment broke when Louis pulled back. He freed his hands from Harry’s grip, and before Harry could even react, Louis had already made it to the edge of the pool. He heaved himself out of the water, when Harry broke out of his rigour and followed.

Louis was dripping wet and the sleeves of his jumper had swallowed his hands. They left wet traces all over the patio. He didn’t turn around when Harry called his name.

“Louis, wait.” Harry climbed out of the pool, following Louis. He barely reached him before Louis could run inside, catching Louis’ wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Louis turned around, not looking at Harry. His mouth formed a thin line, and he didn’t say a word.

“What did I do? I didn’t mean to upset you.” Harry kept his fingers curled around Louis wrist, afraid he’d run again if Harry let go. “I was just having fun.”

Water was dripping from Louis’ chin. He had his gaze fixed on the ground and Harry could see the drops sticking to his lashes. He looked a mess, and so, so beautiful. It took all of Harry’s willpower to refrain from pulling him in.

“Hey, Louis,” he tried again, keeping his voice low, gentle. “Look at me.”

Louis shook his head, and tore his wrist from Harry’s grip. “I’m sick of looking at you, L.A.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. Before he could say a word, though, Louis looked up, eyes literally boring into Harry’s.

“It’s not enough, okay? I’ve been looking at you in your bloody tiny trunks, and I’ve been looking at you in that fucking tight suit with your shirt gaping open, and I’ve been looking at you every single moment I’ve been with you.” Louis inhaled, throwing his hands up. Water sprinkled around him, hitting the glass of Harry’s patio doors. “It’s not enough. I want more. If I look at you, I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me, and I want your stupid mouth back on mine, and I want more than a fucking handjob.”

Everything was suspended for a second. Louis stared at him, and Harry wasn’t sure he felt his fingers, or that his heart was still beating. It didn’t matter, though, because his body moved on its own. He wanted to pull Louis in, but instead, fell to his knees. He had no idea what he was doing when he reached out and pulled down Louis’ dripping football shorts.

“Harry, what the fuck---” That sentence ended in a gasp when Harry leaned in and mouthed over Louis’ clothed cock. His boxer shorts were soaked wet, but Harry could feel the heat beneath. Louis groaned when Harry tilted his head and darted out his tongue. Louis’ jumper was dripping cool water onto Harry’s face, and Harry slid one hand up Louis’ thigh to shove the fabric up over Louis’ hips and stomach.

“Off,” Harry murmured, looking up at Louis. He looked like porn; eyes hooded, lips parted, and cheeks flushed, while his hair was dripping wet. Louis obeyed instantly, taking off the jumper, which left him in nothing but his boxer shorts. They clung to his thighs, showing a clear outline of his cock that was slowly filling up.

“God, please.” Louis breathed out the words, barely audible. “Please, don’t stop. I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks.”

Harry couldn’t help the grin spreading over his face. He licked his lips and leaned in again, mouthing over Louis’ cock with much more intent this time. He ran his tongue flat over the fabric, feeling Louis’ cock twitch beneath. Louis stumbled back a little, releasing a high-pitched noise. His back hit the glass door and he lifted one hand, burying his fingers in Harry’s hair.

With one slick move, Harry pulled down Louis’ boxer shorts. His cock sprang free, not completely hard yet, but already thick and throbbing. Harry licked his lips and looked at Louis once more. He was completely still, eyes fixed on Harry’s, his fingers buried in Harry’s hair, but neither pulling nor shoving. Harry made sure to keep his eyes on Louis when he leaned in closer and darted his tongue out. Louis broke the eye contact, tilting his head back when he moaned.

Taking his time, Harry repeated the motion a few times before he brought his fingers up and curled them around the base of Louis’ cock. He paid attention to the head, pumping Louis’ cock as it filled up. Louis pulled Harry’s hair now, fingers tangled in the curls, nails scraping over Harry’s scalp. It just fired him on.

God, he had thought about this ever since he had touched Louis’ cock for the first time. He had been so sure that Louis would make the most delicious noises when being sucked off. He hadn’t been wrong, but reality was even better than any fantasy Harry had had. Louis didn’t hold back a tiny bit.

When Harry finally wrapped his lips around Louis’ cock, Louis lost it. His hips jerked forwards, and he thrust into Harry’s mouth. It caught Harry by surprise, making him pull off and splutter.

“Stay still,” Harry ordered, one hand coming to rest over Louis hip.

“I’m sorry.” Louis pressed his lips together. “I’m good, I promise.”

That sent all of Harry’s blood downwards. He’d never seen Louis this submissive before, but it was bloody glorious. Harry wanted to know how far they could take that. It’d have to wait for another time, though, because right now, he just wanted to get his mouth back on Louis’ cock and make him come.

Without a warning, Harry went down on him in one move again, taking Louis in as far as he could. He kept his hand on Louis’ hip, but this time, Louis stayed completely still, except for the noises coming out of his mouth.

Harry bobbed his head in rhythm with the movement of his hand and pressed his tongue against the throbbing vein on the underside of Louis’ cock. Louis’ hips twitched but he kept himself in check. From the way he clutched at Harry’s hair, Harry could only guess how much self-restraint it took him to stay still.

That only fuelled Harry on more. He sank deeper onto Louis’ cock, and pulled off ridiculously slowly. Louis whined high in his throat, gasping Harry’s name over and over. It was the only warning Harry received. A moment later, Louis spilled into Harry’s mouth. Harry pulled back enough not to choke on it, lazily swallowing around Louis and milking his cock, until Louis hissed from oversensitivity.

Harry pulled off Louis’ cock with a slick noise, taking a deep breath. He shuffled back, only now noticing how sore his knees were. Louis slid down onto the wooden floor, cheeks rosy and lips bitten red. He sighed and without a warning reached out for Harry to pull him in.

The kiss was dreamy. Harry didn’t have any other word for it. Louis kissed him slow and gentle, no urge behind it, just a drag and pull of lips, his tongue dipping past Harry’s lips, leisurely exploring Harry’s mouth. He tasted like chlorine and tea, and just like Louis. Harry had missed kissing Louis. Especially like this, slow and slick and deep. Even if they had never kissed like this before.

“Come on, babe,” Louis murmured against Harry’s lips. His fingers gently stroked down Harry’s stomach. “Let’s get you off.”

Harry crowded into Louis’ space, taking more of those kisses. He didn’t want to stop kissing Louis. He shook his head when Louis pulled back, drawing him back in for another kiss.

“Don’t you want me--?” Louis stopped when Harry bit his bottom lip.

“Keep kissing me,” Harry breathed. “Just need your hand.”

Louis obeyed, shoving his hand down Harry’s cold and wet swimming trunks. His fingers were hot when they curled around Harry’s cock. He kissed Harry firmly, his hand moving without any hesitation. He twisted his wrist just right, made Harry moan into their kiss. It only took a minute, and Harry was coming, pulsing hot white strands into Louis’ hand.

Afterwards, he collapsed against Louis’ chest, trying to catch his breath. Louis held him, his hand sticky above Harry’s waist, but Harry didn’t really care. He hadn’t felt this content in a while, and right now, all he wanted was bathe in the feeling of being sated and dizzy in the best way.

Louis turned his head a little and pressed a kiss against Harry’s hair. He still had one of his hands buried in Harry’s curls, and Harry smiled when Louis started playing with them. He remembered, and of course he’d do this for Harry.

“I’ll want you again,” Louis murmured after a while.

Harry lifted his head from where it had rested against Louis’ chest. His trunks started to get really uncomfortable. They should go inside for a shower.

“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked.

Louis lifted a shoulder. He was gloriously naked, sitting on the floor of Harry’s patio, a wet imprint of his backside left on the glass of the patio door. How could he look so insecure?

“I don’t know,” he said, looking at Harry. “You were the one saying we shouldn’t do it again.”

“It’s not like sleeping with you makes this sham we’re in any easier.” Harry slid one finger up Louis’ leg to his knee, drawing circles. “If these past days have proven anything, though, it’s that I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t want to keep them off you.”

Louis touched the necklace dangling around Harry’s neck, playing with the cross. “I’ve been dreaming about your hands a lot.”

“Yeah?” Harry leaned in, his hand moving back down Louis’ thigh. “Doing what exactly?”

“Touching me,” Louis replied, pulling Harry closer by his necklace. “And those lips. God, L.A., those lips are made to suck cock. Did anyone ever tell you?”

Harry smirked, running one finger along Louis’ cock. It twitched in interest. “I’d love to put them to use again.”

Louis tilted his head, brushing his mouth against Harry’s. “Please.”

“I liked it when you called me babe,” Harry murmured, drawing his finger lazily over Louis’ cock. Up and down. Up and down. Louis’ eyes got hazier by the second. “I like how you say it in that posh British accent.”

“You’re British yourself,” Louis reminded him. He chased Harry’s lips, an upset tilt to his mouth when Harry drew back.

Harry grinned. “I’ve become a bit too L.A.”

Laughing, Louis sealed Harry’s lips, thrusting up into Harry’s hand. He gasped when Harry touched the sensitive head of his cock, mouth slack against Harry’s. He was so wonderfully receptive, so responsive to every one of Harry’s touches. It was the hottest thing Harry had ever witnessed.

“I need to get out of these,” Harry said, gesturing at the trunks.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind helping you with that.” Louis pulled at the waistband. He grinned. “Babe.”

“How generous of you.” Harry detached himself from Louis, standing up. He held his hand out to help Louis up. “I guess you wouldn’t mind helping me in the shower, too?”

Louis crowded Harry’s back, urging him to move forward. His hands were placed possessively placed over Harry’s hips, squeezing his love handles. “I wouldn’t mind washing your hair.”

“You wanna wash my hair?” Harry raised a brow, turning to Louis.   

“It’ll save time.” Louis grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “While you’re on your knees anyway…”

+++

When Louis woke up, it was still dark outside. The room was dimly illuminated by the moonlight falling through the window and the only sound he could hear was Harry’s steady breathing.

When he’d wake up in the morning, Harry would still be there. It was the third time they fell asleep together, but for both times before, Louis had woken up all by himself. It was nice like this; opening his eyes, and holding another body. Harry was warm, his skin smooth and soft. The way his back molded against Louis’ front felt natural. Like it was meant to be there.

Louis shouldn’t think about those things, shouldn’t allow his mind to wander. He’d been so scared to be rejected, but Harry had felt the same all along. It only made their situation more complicated, but in a way, it made it easier, too. Louis felt like those walls between them were finally down after today. They had been honest with each other, and they knew what to expect from each other.

Except for one little detail, maybe.

Louis buried his face against Harry’s nape, inhaling his scent. He smelled of clean sweat and shampoo. Sex. Closing his eyes, Louis mouthed over Harry’s skin, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over Harry’s nipple.

He hadn’t told Harry everything. They’d been honest with each other, and it had felt good to let Harry know that Louis felt differently about him now, and that apart from being physically attracted to him, Louis also liked Harry. They were still bickering, but that was all in good fun, not to spite each other.

Yet, Louis hadn’t had the guts to tell Harry that he was Louis’ first.

He wasn’t a trembling virgin, hell no. Yet, he was completely inexperienced when it came to having sex with men. Even with women, it wasn’t like Louis had plenty of experience. As soon as he had admitted in front of himself that he was gay, he hadn’t forced himself to try anymore. That had been years ago.

He was sure that Harry was the last person on earth to make fun of him for that. Yet, their agreement was to be casual. To take away as much as possible, and have fun with this. They could be friends with benefits; no strings attached. So how would Harry feel if Louis told him now that Harry was his first? Harry surely wouldn’t take it easy. He’d probably withdraw, telling Louis to wait for someone who was worth it.

The thing was, Louis didn’t want to wait. He was tired of waiting. Harry was so good, in every way possible. He made Louis’ blood run hot, made him feel desperate and needy, and at the same time managed to make Louis laugh during sex. Louis didn’t want to lose it. He wanted to take away as much as he could.

Which wasn’t easy when he didn’t know how to give back.

By now, Harry probably hadn’t noticed. He would, however, notice soon that Louis was inexperienced past handjobs. Harry knew his way around, had exactly known how to use his mouth to get Louis off. It wasn’t like Louis didn’t want to do the same for Harry. He did want it; want it so badly. Yet, Harry would definitely notice that Louis hadn’t done that before.

There was no way Louis could play down his inexperience with sex.

He had been horrified the second Harry’s lips had touched his cock. Sure, Louis had dreamed of it, but the actual thing had been entirely different. It’d been the first blowjob Louis had ever received, and had he known how good it really was, he wouldn’t have waited that long. He hadn’t been able to last long, and Harry had probably noticed when Louis had lost control the second Harry’s lips had wrapped around him. He knew, of course Louis _knew_ that he wasn’t supposed to thrust. It had been so hard not to, though.

Harry’s breathing changed and only then did Louis notice that he had sucked several bruises into Harry’s neck and shoulder and that his fingers were pinching Harry’s nipple over and over again. Harry had started moving back against Louis’ crotch, hips rocking gently.

Louis should stop. Harry wasn’t awake, and it definitely wasn’t appropriate using someone’s body to get off when they were asleep. Louis shifted away a little, detaching himself from Harry’s back.

“Louis,” Harry breathed in his sleep, shuffling around a little, as if he was searching contact.

God, how was Louis supposed to hold himself back? How was he supposed to not go absolutely crazy? He wanted Harry, and he’d have to figure out how to keep him without exposing himself.

Maybe this was the perfect opportunity. Louis froze for a second, watching Harry turn around and searching for Louis’ body warmth. He could always excuse being sloppy with being tired and sleepy. They’d go back to sleep after, and maybe Harry wouldn’t even remember in the morning. At least not in detail.

Louis shifted closer again, and rested his hand on Harry’s waist, leaning in to find Harry’s lips. “Hey, L.A.,” he murmured against them. Harry’s cock was half-hard and his skin was hot. Louis hoped it was him Harry dreamed of. “Babe.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open, and he blinked at Louis, breathing heavily.

“Having a nice dream?” Louis whispered.

“It just got better,” Harry’s voice was raspy. He moved his own hand up his torso, resting it over his chest. “I’m pretty sure, though, that I didn’t play with my nipples.”

Louis laughed, shoving the duvet down. “I may have gotten a little bored.”

“How about you finish what you’ve started?” Harry asked, one hand coming down to Louis’ hip, pulling him closer.

For a moment, Louis looked at him, trying to calm down his nerves. Harry’s lids were heavy, and he looked sleep-soft, his curls tousled, his lips pink. He smiled fondly, as if he wasn’t sure what Louis waited for, but trusted him to take care of Harry.

Without a warning, Louis shifted down and attached his lips to one of Harry’s nipples. It was already a little puffy from Louis’ fingers playing with it for so long. Louis made sure to be rough, but not too rough that it’d actually hurt Harry. He gently licked them after every time he bit them playfully. Harry sighed and moaned, his nails scraping over Louis’ back.

Louis’ fingers drew circles on Harry’s thighs, slowly and carefully approaching his cock. He kissed a path down Harry’s stomach, and cupped his balls, glancing up to make sure Harry still enjoyed it. He had an arm thrown over his face, his chest heaving with deep breaths.

Drawing back, Louis licked his lips. Harry’s cock was full and hard, curving up against his stomach. Carefully, Louis darted out his tongue, licking the head. It was bitter, salty and sticky. Louis swallowed thickly, bracing himself, then he licked more boldly, from the base up the head. Harry arched off the bed, groaning deeply.

This was going well. Harry seemed to enjoy it, which was the only thing that mattered. Louis wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he removed his hand from Harry’s balls and wrapped his fingers around the base of Harry’s cock. Gently, he suckled the head, closing his eyes to remember what Harry had done with his lips.

He slowly sank down, bobbing his head slightly, trying to be careful with his teeth. Harry’s cock was big, way too big to fit in Louis’ mouth. He couldn’t imagine anyone could take all of it. Then again, maybe Harry had been with people who had been able to. He’d compare Louis to them, and surely enough, Louis would lose.

Abandoning the thought, Louis forced himself to sink deeper. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he had to pull off and keep himself from coughing. Instead, he took it right back in, swirling his tongue around the head before licking the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock. Harry buried his nails in Louis’ shoulder in response, gasping loudly.

Louis repeated the motions, getting used to the weight of a cock on his tongue. He timed his strokes to the bobbing of his head, feeling like he got a hang of it now. His jaw hurt and spit was gathering on his chin. He doubted he looked attractive right now, but all he cared for was getting Harry off. Harry’ hips twitched, and his hand frantically searched for something to hold on to. Louis reached out his free hand to take Harry’s, lacing their fingers.

He realised too late that it was Harry’s way of warning him. His hips bucked, cock hitting Louis’ throat and making him gag. A second later, Harry spilled, and Louis just barely managed to pull back. He managed to catch most of it, but some splashed onto his chin and neck. A shiver ran through his body and he realised he had come himself, his own cock giving a feeble twitch against his thigh.

Louis’ heart pounded in his chest. Harry relaxed onto the mattress, his fingers unclenching from around Louis’. Louis leaned down again and licked Harry clean, sucking every single last drop off him. When he crawled back up, Harry’s head rolled to the side and he looked blissfully exhausted. His hair was sweaty and he had bitten his lips so much, they were puffy and red.

“God.” he sighed and lifted their laced fingers to his chest, resting them there. “How I missed good sex.”

Louis’ heart lurched in his chest. He plopped down next to Harry on his stomach, watching him. “Yeah,” he agreed. What else was he supposed to say? He’d never had sex as good as this before.

“Come here,” Harry said, tugging Louis closer. “I’ll help you out.”

Louis came easily, pressing his lips to Harry’s to distract him. He didn’t wanna say that he had come from getting to blow Harry, from watching Harry fall apart from Louis’ lips alone. “Go back to sleep.”

Harry frowned slightly. “You need to--”

Kissing him again, Louis shut Harry up. He licked inside Harry’s mouth with intent, before he turned Harry around so they were spooning again. Shoving his hips forward, he made sure Harry got the message.

“Oh.” Harry made a choked off noise, and Louis wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. Resting his hand over Louis’, Harry pulled Louis’ arms closer around his middle. He took a deep breath, dreamily sighing and Louis could practically feel how Harry fell back asleep. His breathing evened out and his body went lax in Louis’ arms.

Louis lay awake until the sun came up, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. At the end of the day, there was only one that mattered, though.

For Louis, this was more than just sex.

===

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for taking your time to read :) <3


	9. Shining Ray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves :D 
> 
> Here we go!!! Chapter 9 turned out another monster, but I guess you don't mind, do you? ;) We've got a lot of pining and falling in love in this one, as well as some .... surprise rimming!!!! *lol*
> 
> Enjoy the read <3

 

“So,” Harry said, watching Louis look up at him from his phone. 

Louis tilted his head. “So?” 

Harry ran a finger over the skin of Louis’ arm, tracing a tattoo of a paper plane. He wore a white t-shirt and dark, skinny jeans. His white trainers lay in front of the sofa. “Is there any chance you’ll pay attention to me?” 

“Depends.” Louis looked at his mobile again when it buzzed in his hand. “Do you have something better to offer than gossip about Fizzy’s new boyfriend?” 

“I could try.” Harry rested his hand on Louis’ thigh, leaning closer. Louis’ body was fully turned to his, his feet tucked beneath his legs. It was easy for Harry to get into his space. 

Louis looked up from his phone again, dropping it to his lap. “I’m all ears.” 

Harry wanted to check the room again, make sure that they were still alone. He couldn’t take his eyes off Louis’, though. Officially, they were a couple anyway, so there was nothing suspicious about their behaviour right now. 

He leaned in closer and brushed his lips against Louis’. It was easy, simple. Louis didn’t put up any resistance. His lips opened immediately, making room for Harry’s tongue, and his hand cupped Harry’s jaw. With his thumb, he gently caressed Harry’s cheek, a calming gesture, and strangely contradicting the heat behind their kiss. They never kissed just for the sake of it, it was always either the beginning or ending of something heated. 

Harry felt like everything Louis did turned him on. Like a minute ago, when he had been texting on his phone. Watching him bite his lip to hold back a grin, his lashes fanning out over his sharp cheekbones -- Harry couldn’t help but wanting to touch him all the time. 

They had to keep it to kissing here, though. If anyone came into the dressing room and found them in a compromising position that could get awkward. 

Louis chased Harry’s lips when he pulled back, and Harry gave in, sinking into the kiss once more before he broke it. He licked his lips, tasting Louis on them. His hand had moved dangerously high up Louis’ thigh. 

“So what’s that about Fizzy’s boyfriend?” 

Louis blinked, eyes hazy and focused on Harry’s lips. He dragged his thumb over them, and Harry smiled, tilting his head to press a kiss against Louis’ palm. 

“She brought him ‘round home last night,” Louis said. He withdrew his hand, resting it over Harry’s knee. “And no one liked him.” 

Harry hummed. “What did he do?”

“Daisy says he didn’t offer help for anything.” Louis shrugged. “Or played with the little ones.” 

“That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a bad person, does it?” Harry traced the writing on Louis’ t-shirt with one finger. “Maybe he was nervous?” 

“They’re all spoilt because of Tommy.” 

Harry raised a brow. “Who is Tommy?” 

“Lottie’s boyfriend.” Louis glanced at his mobile phone when it buzzed again. “They love him. And it seems like the other girls need to bring someone home who can meet those standards.” 

“What about you?” 

Louis tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“Will the boy you bring home be held to those standards too?” Harry asked, keeping his eyes on Louis’ face. 

“Well.” Louis looked to the side, laughing awkwardly. “I*ve never brought anyone home.” 

Harry blinked at him. He hadn’t expected that answer. “So the first dude you’ve ever brought home was a fake boyfriend?” 

“Dude,” Louis repeated, patting Harry’s knee. “You’ve become all American, haven’t you?” 

He was avoiding the topic, and Harry decided not to prod it. “Doing my best.” 

“It’s a bit ridiculous, you know, with that British accent.” Louis leaned in and Harry watched him close his eyes, dark lashes meeting golden skin.

“Actually,” Harry said, drawing his finger up from Louis’ chest to his neck. “I’ve been told I sound a little American by now.” 

Shaking his head, Louis closed the gap. “I can’t believe that makes you proud.”

Their lips had just met, when someone clearing their throat loudly behind them made Harry draw back from Louis. Louis withdrew his hand from Harry’s leg, and he brought some space between them. Turning his head to look over the backrest of the sofa, Harry saw Niall stand by the door. 

“Now, that looks a lot different from how you two treated each other the last time I’ve seen you.” Niall smirked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“That was ages ago,” Harry said. 

“A few months tops.” Niall walked over, resting his hip against the backrest of the sofa. 

“Louis, I need you in make-up,” Barbara said from the door. She glanced at Niall briefly before she focused back on Louis. “We gotta do something about your hair.” 

“Coming.” Louis was out of his seat in a second, slipping on his trainers and rushing over to her. Harry couldn’t really blame him for fleeing the scene. 

Niall gazed after them as they left, sighing deeply. “There she is.” 

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned back around. “Are you still trying to convince Babs you’re the right one for her?” 

“I would.” Niall rounded the sofa to sit down next to Harry. “If she gave me the time of the day.” 

“It’d probably help if you stopped flirting with every female crossing your path.” 

Niall scruffed. “She totally misunderstands me.” 

“Does she?” Harry raised a brow.

“A little.” Niall pursed his lips, looking at Harry. “Mostly.” 

“Well, she’ll be here all day for rehearsals, and she’ll stay for the show tonight, too.” Harry patted Niall’s knee. “Maybe today is the day you’ll enchant her with your unique charm.” 

“Like you enchanted Louis with your unique charm?” The smirk was back on Niall’s lips. 

“Sod off.” Harry frowned, looking at his hands. “It’s not what it looks like.” 

“Why?” Niall sounded surprised. “Did you just put on an act for me?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, we’re-- kinda. You know.” 

“I don’t, young Harold. Do tell me what exactly you are.” The smug tone in his voice made Niall sound ten times darker than he usually did. 

“We get along now,” Harry decided to say. 

“Oh, yeah, I saw that.” Niall shook his head and sighed. “I can’t believe you didn’t even mention it in a text. Since when do we have secrets?” 

Looking at Niall, Harry rolled his eyes again. “It’s none of your business who I sleep with, is it?” 

“It kinda is.” Niall crossed his legs, stretching on the sofa. “You’ve been whining to me for ages how Luke is not available and he’s so great and so hot and the perfect man for you. And now you’re here, snogging Louis Tomlinson in my dressing room.” 

“That doesn’t mean I wanna marry him,” Harry pointed out. Thinking about Luke made his chest feel strangely tight. Whenever he thought of Luke, that led to thinking of Louis, too. Of the way he laughed, and the way he smelled, and the way he looked when he woke up. The way he moaned when Harry touched him. 

“But it does mean something.” Niall looked a little more serious now. “You didn’t start anything with anyone in two years, just because you always wanted it to be Luke.” 

“I still want it to be Luke.” Harry said it immediately, but something in the way it came out of his mouth felt wrong. “We’ve talked about it, actually. He needs some time to get over Chris, and I don’t wanna start anything while being in this sham.” 

Niall was quiet for a moment. “Does Louis know about that?” 

“He does.” Harry nodded. “Louis and me-- that’s. That’s just fun, you know? We clicked, in a way.” 

“Yeah, enough so you would break your celibacy.” 

“Shut up.” Harry shoved Niall’s shoulder. “I didn’t live in celibacy.” 

“Okay.” Niall shoved Harry back, and Harry was sure he did it just for the sake of it. “But those few one-night stands didn’t mean anything.” 

Harry opened his mouth to say the first thing that came to his mind.  _ This doesn’t mean anything, either _ . That wasn’t true, though. Sleeping with Louis once hadn’t killed the desire. If anything, it had only grown stronger. 

“Thought so,” Niall said. 

“What are you trying to convince me of?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling angry. Whatever Niall was trying to do right now, it was highly irritating. 

Niall shrugged. “I’m just worried. You haven’t started anything over the past years because you were so hell-bent on the fact that you wanted Luke. Now you say you even have a deal with him to take a chance on a relationship, but suddenly start sleeping with another guy. It’s not like you, Harry.” 

Niall was right. It wasn’t. That wasn’t Harry’s fault, though. It was Louis’ -- all Louis, and his radiant personality, his vibrant eyes, his sharp tongue. His delicious body. 

“We’re just making the best of our situation,” he finally said. “We’re both available, and always around each other. There’s no feelings involved.” 

“So, you’re telling me you’re sleeping with him, but you still can’t stand him?” Niall tilted his head, not looking convinced. 

“I do like him.” Harry frowned. “We’re friends, I’d say.” 

Niall hummed. “He’s a great bloke to be around, and you sleep with him. It won’t be a problem to stop when your contract expires.” 

“That’s the deal.” Harry looked at his shoes, realising that it was only another two weeks before they’d go separate ways. “I’m sure we’ll stay friends.” 

“Well, then.” Niall nodded, apparently happy with that answer. “Guess that’s good. I mean, I’m really glad you’re getting laid because you can be quite the pain when you’re sexually frustrated.” 

“Not all of us sleep with every woman coming our way.” Harry bumped his knee against Niall’s. “Using our fame to get laid.” 

Niall shrugged. “It’s convenient. You should try it.” 

“Did that.” Harry pursed his lips. “Wasn’t my thing.” 

“No, Mr Relationship.” Niall cackled. “You’ve always been looking for the real deal.” 

“Sue me.” 

“Hey, Harry!” Paul came into the room. “Barbara wants you in makeup.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Niall said, standing up when Harry did. 

Harry laughed dryly. “I’m not surprised.” 

They followed Paul, and upon reaching the makeup room, Harry saw Louis in one of the chairs in front of a mirror, hair styled up in a quiff, and his lips glistening just like they did after being kissed for a while.

Harry looked away, taking the chair next to Louis’. It was just lipgloss; that shouldn’t send his libido in a bloody limbo dance. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Louis smiled at Harry, setting his heart off to join that limbo dance. 

Harry didn’t deserve this. 

“My hair could use a little retouch, too.” Niall leaned against Harry’s chair. 

Barbara glanced at him while applying powder to Louis’ face. “I’m sure someone here can call your stylist in.” 

Louis snorted, pressing one eye closed when Barbara’s brush came a bit too close. Harry watched him in the mirror, heart still pounding in his chest. He liked it when Louis laughed. He wanted Louis to laugh all the time. He wanted to  _ make _ Louis laugh. 

“Isn’t there a chance you could do it? Just a quick touch-up.” Niall used his best fawning voice. Harry shook his head in amusement. 

“Sorry,” Barbara replied. “I’m Harry’s stylist.” 

Niall pouted. “And why are you styling Louis?” 

“Because he’s nice, and I like his sister.” Barbara put the brush away, lifting Louis’ face up by his chin to look at him. She nodded, patting his shoulder. “You’re good to go.” 

“I’ll shoot Lottie a thanks,” Louis said, taking out his mobile. 

Barbara winked at him before she turned to Harry. “Now, how are you feeling about your hair today?” 

“Loose,” Harry said, running a hand through it. “Before we have to cut it, I wanna wear it loose.” 

“Cut it?” Niall and Louis asked at the same time. 

“The new film I got signed for.” Harry shrugged, letting Barbara spray his hair with some leave-in product. “I gotta cut it for that role.” 

“Frustrating.” Niall shook his head. “You worked so hard on letting it grow out.” 

Harry nodded. “It just comes with the job.”

“I like that length.” Louis swirled his chair around so he could face them. “It’s perfect for--” 

He fell silent, and Harry found himself stare at Louis, his breath caught in his throat. 

Niall snickered behind Harry. “Perfect for what, Louis?” 

“The headbands,” Louis replied, his voice a little raspy. He cleared his throat. “You won’t wear them anymore, will you?” 

Harry swallowed thickly, forcing himself to tear his eyes from Louis. “I won't, no.” 

Barbara tied Harry's hair between her fingers. “You're so close to wearing it in a tail now.“ 

“It was a lot of work,” Harry confirmed. 

“What is that?” Barbara shrieked. She pressed Harry's head forwards, the fingers of her free hand running over his nape. It hurt, a sharp pain jolting through Harry. “Are those hickeys?” 

Harry froze. 

“Let me see!” Niall leaned over, too. He gasped. “Damn, Harold, those are huge!”

“Get off me, you two!” Harry ducked away, getting up from the chair. Niall was grinning madly, while Barbara looked a little shocked. Louis was staring at him with round eyes. “That's none of your business.” 

“Louis looks pretty interested, though,” Niall pointed out. Louis flinched, dropping his gaze to the ground.

“You didn't tell me you were seeing anyone.” Barbra sounded upset. A frown was etched between her brows.  

“I'm--” 

“Do you know who he's sleeping with, Louis?” Niall asked, acting all innocent. 

Louis looked at Harry again, obviously unsure how to reply. 

“He does!” Barbara pointed at Louis. “How does he know and I don't?” 

Niall started laughing, holding his stomach. Harry smacked his head gently, rolling his eyes. Checking on Louis, Harry found him blushing, his teeth biting on his bottom lip. If he didn't stop that soon, Harry was going to forget himself. He looked so sexy like that, and it'd been too long since Harry had last touched him. 

“What's so funny?” Barbara asked. 

“It's Louis,” Niall pressed out between laughs. “These two obviously got something going on.” 

Barbara hesitated a moment, then she moved faster than anyone could have predicted and pulled down the collar of Louis’ t-shirt. He tried to fend her off, but it was in vain. A big, blue bruise came into sight, right where his neck met his shoulder. 

“You are!” Barbara put a hand over her heart in shock. “You two are sleeping together, and I didn't notice a thing.” 

Harry sighed, shaking his head. “If it makes you feel better, it hasn't been going on for a long time.” 

“How long?” she asked. 

“A few days.” Harry decided to keep it to himself that they had danced around each other for a while longer. 

“I don't think that's anyone's business, is it?” Louis asked, frowning at Harry. 

“Niall would've told her anyway, as a way to get her interest or something.” Harry shrugged, looking at Barbara again. “Now you know, and we'll never have to talk about it again.” 

“You don't think--” 

Barbara was cut short by a crew member coming in. “Rehearsals start in three minutes. Everyone in the studio, please.” 

“That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” Barbara said as she forced Harry back into the chair. 

Harry held still while she applied primer on his face, but followed Louis with his eyes when he got up from his own chair. He looked moody, a little upset even, but quickly smiled when Niall threw an arm around his shoulders. 

“Come on, Louis, us two go ahead.” Niall led him out the room. “So what are your plans for Christmas?” 

“I’ll spend it with my family,” Louis replied promptly, and Harry couldn’t hear the rest. 

He was pretty sure that Louis wasn’t happy with Niall and Barbara knowing about them. It wasn’t like Harry had planned any of it. He had told Niall in private, and he would’ve done that anyway. That Barbara had found out -- and on top of everything the way she had -- hadn’t been very fortunate. 

They hadn’t talked about it. If Harry was honest, there were a lot of things they hadn’t talked about. A lot of things Harry hadn’t even thought about until now. Of course, this was nothing to be made public. Then again, part of it was, because they were still contractually dating until January. 

That they were actually sleeping with each other, however, was nothing they should spread. 

Harry needed a moment with Louis alone. Just a minute to make sure they were okay, and that Niall and Barbara knowing wouldn’t erase all the progress they’d made so far. He just needed a minute to tell Louis that they were all right, and that he shouldn’t be upset. Just a minute to kiss him, maybe. 

Harry looked at himself in the mirror when Barbara was finished, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked so different from just a few days ago. 

+++

Louis knew he shouldn’t overthink it, but that was hard when Harry went so casually about it. He had talked about sleeping with Louis like it was nothing. Nothing special. Something he’d do with anyone, nothing to be kept between them, or that had the same earthshaking effect on him that it had on Louis. 

Sure, Louis hadn’t slept with a man before, so for him, all of this was probably a little more serious than it was for Harry. That didn't mean Harry had to act like it didn't mean anything to him. 

Maybe that was exactly the case, though, and this thing between them was nothing but a nice pastime for Harry. He had denied having slept with his past fake boyfriends, but it was possible that he had lied then.

“We're going live in two minutes,” someone said and Louis took his position behind the set, watching Niall sort through his stage kitchen, as if he made himself familiar with it. Obviously, he didn’t need that. 

Rehearsals had gone well. Niall was in his element in the kitchen, as well as in front of a camera. Just like Harry had been. They'd been making jokes, easy banter exchanged between the two of them. Coupled with Louis being irritated with Harry to begin with, it had been hard for him to keep up with them. 

Louis usually never had problems to insert himself into conversations. He always had something to say. He was frustrated with himself for being so insecure today. 

It was all Harry's fault.  

A gentle hand came to rest on his hip, sneaky fingers hooking into one of his belt loops and pulling him closer. Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest.  

“I was hoping to get a minute with you alone,” Harry said quietly. “You're upset with me.” 

Well, at least he had noticed. 

“I'm sorry about Barbara and Niall.” Harry brushed his thumb over Louis’ hip bone. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.” 

Louis shifted his weight onto one leg, leaning a little closer to Harry. “I didn’t know we’d tell other people. I was caught off-guard.” 

Harry rested his chin on Louis’ shoulder, arms coming around his waist. “Niall figured it out by himself, because he knows me so well.” 

_ So well _ . He knew that Harry made use of the situations he was put in. It wasn’t the first time Harry slept with one of his contractual partners. “That’s okay,” Louis said. 

“Hey.” Harry waited, and when Louis turned his face, Harry was looking at him with clear, wide eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s between us, and no one else should know about it.” 

Louis bit his lip. “Well, the lines are a little blurry, aren’t they? With how we have to keep up the pretence in public.” 

“We’ve been quite good at it so far, haven’t we?” Harry tilted his head slightly, eyes still holding Louis’. 

“I think so, yeah.” How was Louis supposed to be angry with him? Harry had apologised and he had explained himself. Of course he hadn’t had any cruel intentions to begin with. Louis couldn’t be mad at Harry for not treating him in any special way. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that this meant more to Louis than it did to him. “We’re good.” 

Harry beamed, a bright smile, his dimples denting his cheeks. Louis lifted one hand, leaning into Harry’s embrace. He touched Harry’s cheek, one finger poking at a dimple. Harry took it as an invitation and leaned in, kissing Louis. Butterflies went loose in Louis’ stomach, his skin prickling with how much he had missed Harry’s lips. It hadn’t been long -- just a matter of minutes -- but Louis’ lips had been craving Harry’s kiss already. 

He was so, so fucked. 

They parted when someone from the show’s staff told them to stand by. They were given a sign and Louis saw Niall glancing at them from the studio while he introduced them. They went on stage when the audience started clapping, Louis went first, and Harry stayed right behind him. Hugging Niall, they pretended to see him for the first time today. Niall congratulated them on the release of the film, and for a few minutes they talked about it. Louis let Harry take the lead with that, and just replied whenever Niall addressed him.

“Should we start cooking?” Niall asked, walking over behind the kitchen counter. “It’s our Christmas episode, so of course I thought it’d be best to do a traditional Christmas dinner.” 

“Starting easy,” Louis commented drily. 

Niall laughed. “I prepared the roast. We just gotta take care of the potatoes and sides.” 

“No dessert?” Harry asked, an upset tilt to his lips. 

“Harry’s got a bit of a sweet tooth.” Louis patted his shoulder. “You can’t send him home without dessert.” 

“Okay, we’ll start with dessert, then.” Niall opened the fridge and got out several things. “Get your aprons, lads.” 

Louis looked at the two aprons hanging at the side of the stage; one red, one green. He took the green one with a Santa Claus face on it, leaving the red one with a big Rudolph for Harry. Rudolph’s red nose was hanging right over Harry’s crotch when he put it on, making the audience laugh. 

Harry popped his hip and started shaking his bum a little. Louis laughed, unable to resist, and bopped the nose with one finger, which made Harry giggle. It was so adorable, the way his dimples carved themselves into his cheeks, and his eyes shone brightly. Louis grinned, knowing that his expression probably showed exactly how proud he was of making Harry laugh like that. 

Niall held his stomach while laughing madly at them. “We’re on live telly, lads.”

“Just a bit of banter.” Louis shrugged, walking behind the work counter. “Should we get started?” 

Harry and Niall joined him, and Niall gave them instructions on what to do first. He handed Louis a bowl, eggs and double cream. When Louis just looked at him with uncertainty, Niall shook his head. 

“Whisk the eggs and cream together, Lou.” 

Louis cracked the eggs, and added the cream, trying to figure out how to mix them together. He looked around, a little lost while Harry and Niall were both busy cutting apples. Harry noticed, though, and handed him an egg whisk. 

Not missing a chance, Louis pulled Harry closer by his apron. “Hey, L.A..” He leaned in, so Niall wouldn’t hear. “How do you whisk?” 

Harry looked at him for a moment, brows raised, as if he was trying to figure out whether Louis was making fun of him. Then he shook his head, smiling fondly. He put one hand on Louis’ waist and the other over Louis’ hand holding the egg whisk. 

“Do you honestly need help with that?” Niall asked. 

Louis leaned into Harry’s touch, his back molding against Harry’s front. “Go back to your apples, Horan.” 

Harry laughed into Louis’ ear, his hand leading Louis’ while whisking eggs and cream together. 

Afterwards, they talked about Christmas dinners at their respectives homes, how they spent Christmas in their families and what had been their best Christmas presents during childhood. 

During the first break, Julia pulled him and Harry aside. “He’s gonna ask next what you’ve got planned for Christmas this year. Of course you’ll spend it together.” 

Louis hummed. “What’s the story?” 

“You’ll spend it in L.A. with Harry and his family.” Julia looked at Harry. “They’re coming over, right?” 

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

“You don’t mind, right?” Julia asked. 

“Mind what?” Louis and Harry asked in unison. 

Julia tilted her head slightly, frowning at them. “That Louis’s gonna stay with you over Christmas.” 

“I’m not,” Louis immediately replied. “That’s not gonna happen.” 

“It’s the last obligation in your contract. You’re both free to do whatever you want on New Year’s Eve.” Julia put a hand over Louis’ arm. 

“Can’t we change it around?” Louis felt his throat get tight. The thought of having to spend Christmas away from his family made him want to throw up. 

“But with Christmas, we’ve got your birthday covered, too.” Julia shook her head. “It gathers more publicity than New Year’s.” 

“But--” Harry started. 

“This is going too well,” Julia cut him off. “Both your teams are incredibly happy with what they’re making from this contract. You’ve only got ten days left, boys. Don’t ruin it now.” 

“So, I don’t get a say in this?” Louis asked. “I just gotta take it as it is?” 

“I’m afraid, yes.” Julia patted his arm again, sighing a little. “It’s just this year. And for New Year’s you’ll be home.” 

He didn’t care about New Year’s. Christmas was the time that mattered. He was always home for Christmas; it was a tradition. Yet, it seemed like this had been decided already, and going against it would breach the contract, which would cost his team way too much money. 

Julia turned, telling them to get back in position. 

“Louis.” Harry crowded into his space. 

Louis shook his head, trying to compose himself so the camera wouldn’t pick up on the state he was in. He was an actor, after all. “Not your fault, L.A.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said nonetheless. “I know how much being with your family means to you.” 

“Yeah.” Louis nodded. Harry  _ did _ know. He had seen it himself. “It’s shit.”

Harry caressed Louis’ wrist with his thumb. “What can I do?” 

“Nothing.” Looking up at Harry, Louis shrugged. “It’s not that I hate the idea of being with you. You know that.” 

“I know.” Harry kissed Louis’ temple. “What can I do to make it better?” 

Louis absorbed Harry’s warmth. He really could have had it worse than getting to spend Christmas with Harry. If he had to be away from his family, at least he got to stay with someone he loved having around. 

“Nothing, for now.” Louis detached himself from Harry when the crew announced the cameras were rolling again. “Just act normal.” 

“Acting shouldn’t be a problem.” Harry winked at him. 

They got back to their positions, and someone counted down from three, then Niall welcomed back the audience at home. Harry stayed close to Louis, always hovering around him, touching him briefly when he could. 

It was reassuring, in a way. 

Louis really needed to call his mum. 

+++

“I can move into the pool house,” Louis said, following Harry into the kitchen. 

“You stay where you are.” Harry shook his head. “You’ve been here first. I don’t wanna have to change the sheets and everything. The pool house is laid out for four, so it’s no problem for my family to stay there.” 

Louis huffed. “But they should be closer to you.” 

“It’s not like my pool house is in Malibu, Louis. It’s right there in my garden. They’ll only be sleeping there. It doesn’t make a difference.” Harry turned around, crossing his arms. He’d been arguing with Louis all morning, and he slowly got tired of it. “That guest room is yours.” 

He knew they were both aware that wasn’t the truth. Louis had slept there for only one night. For every other night since staying here, he had slept in Harry’s bed. Of course Harry’s motives were a little selfish, too. If Louis moved to the pool house now, it’d get much more complicated to get him into Harry’s bedroom at night without anyone getting wind of that. 

“Anyone home?” he heard Gemma shout from the hallway. 

“They’re here.” He leaned in to steal one last kiss from Louis, knowing well enough that until later that night he wouldn’t get to kiss Louis again. They had agreed on keeping it a secret that they were-- whatever they were. There was no label for it. Whatever it was, though, no one had to know about it. 

Louis pulled him in a little closer, deepening the kiss, the he swiped his thumb over Harry’s bottom lips, nodding. “Let’s go.” 

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand, then he went ahead, finding Robin carrying bags into the house, while his mum and sister were already inside. “Hi.” He opened his arms for a hug. “It’s good to see you.” 

Gemma immediately crushed into him, kissing his cheek. 

Anne hugged him, too, nuzzling close. “I’ve missed you, baby.” Then she moved on to Louis, holding her arms out for him, too. “Louis! It’s great to see you.” 

Louis hesitated a little, but embraced her warmly. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“Sorry to keep you stuck with us for Christmas,” Gemma said. “You’d probably rather be with your family.” 

Louis shrugged. “Not gonna lie. I miss my family, but I could have fared worse than this.” 

“We’ll make it a good Christmas for you.” Anne rubbed his arms. 

“Thank you.” Louis hugged her again, and Harry felt a little relieved. He knew that his mother would keep her word. He didn’t want Louis to be sad for a single minute over the upcoming days. 

While Louis had been in his guest room, phoning his own mother, Harry had sent a couple of texts to his own mum, explaining the situation. She had texted back when they had landed in LAX, assuring Harry that they’d manage together. 

Harry went outside to help Robin with the luggage. He had rented a car for them and apparently, it had just been big enough for all the suitcases and bags they had brought. Robin greeted Harry with a bear hug, pointing out that only one of the bags was actually his. 

“I’m starving,” Gemma complained when they came back into the kitchen later. 

“It’s time for dinner, anyway.” Harry pointed at a stack of prospects. “Should we order in or cook something?” 

“Order in.” Gemma took the one on top, studying it. “I’ve seen Louis cook on telly, and I’ rather not take the risk.” 

“Excuse you.” Louis took one as well, giving Gemma an unimpressed look “I got a Michelin star last night.” 

Gemma laughed. “You don’t even know how to whisk.” 

Louis pointed at her. “I know now.” 

“Louis’s actually not too bad around the kitchen.” Harry got out a paper and pen to note down their orders. “Maybe not a chef, though.” 

They ordered food, then Gemma, Anne and Robin brought their things into the pool house, excusing themselves to get changed. Harry kept himself busy in the kitchen, setting the dining table and mixing them drinks. Louis sat by the counter and watched him. Somehow, it was comfortable like that. 

“Your mum is really nice,” Louis said suddenly. 

Harry turned to him. “She’s the best, yeah.” 

Smiling, Louis nodded briefly. “I miss my mum. My family; all of them.” He glanced down at his hands and shrugged, and Harry was about to say something, but then Louis went on. “It could be worse, though. I feel like you guys won’t let me get miserable.” 

“We won’t.” Harry put down the plates. Something was pulling him towards Louis; like an urge, an itch beneath his skin that made him want to touch Louis. He put his hand over Louis’. “I’ll make sure you’re not going to get lonely.” 

Louis swallowed, Harry could see his Adam’s apple bob. He kept his eyes on Harry and licked his lips. There was a sudden nervousness in his expression and Harry laced their fingers, hoping it’d calm Louis down. 

“Harry,” he started, voice a little raspy. “I think I might--” Louis was interrupted by the door bell ringing. He blinked, tearing his gaze from Harry’s and looking over to the hallway. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away. “That’s a bit soon to be the food.” 

“Yeah.” Harry took a step back, then turned to go answer the door. 

He blinked when he saw Luke. He had his arms behind his back, his hair swept back from his face and a smile on his lips. 

“Hi, Harry,” he said. “Is it a bad time?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, not at all.” he stepped aside. “Please come in.” 

Luke immediately went for a hug, his arms closing around Harry’s shoulders. “It’s been a while.” 

For a moment, Harry hesitated. He had no idea what was holding him back, why his arms refused to move and hug Luke back. He caught himself, though, and pulled Luke closer. He smelled of something fresh and minty, and his body somehow didn’t slot with Harry’s the way it should. Harry remembered the feeling differently. His heart had used to beat wildly when he had hugged Luke. Now it stayed completely calm in his chest. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Harry replied, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“How have you been?” Luke drew back, but staying close enough that their chests were still touching. “I saw some of your promo.” 

“It’s been a busy month.” Harry left his hand on Luke’s hip. He moved it a little up and down, trying to find a place where his fingers fit. “I’m glad to be back.” 

“I’m really happy you’re back.” Luke smiled, leaning in to kiss Harry’s cheek. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” 

Harry blushed, and he wanted to believe he blushed because of those words, because he was flattered, because of Luke’s lips grazing his skin. The real reason he blushed though, was that he thought about Louis, about how they had kissed the night before, and how Louis had come apart in Harry’s arms. 

He hadn’t thought about Luke then. 

“I’ve been thinking about you, too.” It wasn’t a lie. He  _ had _ thought about Luke. 

Together, they made their way to the kitchen. Louis was still sitting at the counter, typing something out on his phone. He looked up when they came in, and Harry wanted to read his reaction, but Louis schooled his expression into a blank one too quickly. 

“Luke,” he said. He sounded warm, genuinely happy to see Luke. “It’s been a while.” 

“Hi, Louis.” Luke held out his hand. “What are you doing here?” 

Shaking his hand, Louis shrugged it off. “Just a bit of promo, you know. Playing it up on social media.” 

Harry’s throat felt tight. He didn’t know why, but seeing Louis and Luke right here, exchanging friendly chatter in his kitchen, made his guts freeze. Something was wrong about this. “My family’s just arrived, too.” 

Luke raised a brow. “Oh, I didn’t know you had so many guests today.” 

“Don’t worry.” Harry put a hand over the small of Luke’s back, leading him over to the sitting area. He noticed Louis’ gaze following his hand for a second. “I love having guests. We’ve ordered food. Why don’t you join us?” 

“If you don’t mind.” Luke sat down. “I’d love to catch up.” 

“What have you been up to?” Louis asked, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. “You’ve been filming, haven’t you?” 

Luke nodded. “For a drama series. We’re taking a break from shooting for Christmas.” 

“Hazza, do you have any--” Gemma stopped in the middle of her sentence when she spotted Luke. “Oh.” 

“Luke, that’s Gemma,” Harry said, gesturing for her to join them. “My sister.” 

“What an honour,” she said holding out her hand. She had changed into a light summer dress and had tied her hair up in a bun. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m a big a fan.” 

Luke smiled, taking her hand. “My pleasure.” 

Harry sat down next to Luke. “Are you staying in L.A. for Christmas?” 

Luke shook his head. “No, I’m heading back to Ireland in the morning. Should be able to make it just in time.” 

So he’d come over especially to see Harry before leaving. He had taken that time out of his schedule, just because had wanted to see Harry. It was a sweet gesture. “I’m glad you found some time to come and see me.” 

“Of course.” Luke rested a hand over Harry’s thigh, patting it gently. 

“I’ll get something to drink.” Louis got up from his arm chair, wringing his hands together. “Anyone else want a drink?” 

“The food should be here any minute now.” Harry watched Louis leave the room. “Why don’t we sit down at the table?” 

“I’ll get mum and Robin.” Gemma followed Louis, leaving Harry alone with Luke. 

“That’s a little tough, isn’t it?” Luke asked, hand still resting over Harry’s thigh. 

“What is?” Harry tilted his head. 

Luke looked to the door again, as if he was checking no one listened in on them. “Having someone intrude on your family time.” 

“Oh.” Harry quickly shook his head, resting his hand over Luke’s. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not intruding on anything.” 

“I didn’t---” Luke chuckled lightly, biting his lip. “I meant Louis. Spending Christmas with a stranger in your midst. That’s odd, isn’t it?” 

For a moment, Harry didn’t know what to say. It didn’t feel like that. Not a single bit. From the minute Julia had told them that Louis was going to spend Christmas with him and his family, all Harry had thought about was how tough that was for Louis. Never that he wouldn’t fit. Harry knew his family would make Louis feel welcome. They understood how important that was for Harry, too. 

Louis was his friend, after all. 

“I think--” Harry swallowed thickly. “I think it may be harder for Louis. Being away from his family.” 

Luke nodded, drawing his hand away. “I guess it’s not that easy for either side, is it?” 

“Yeah.” Harry pressed his lips together. It was hard, but maybe not for the reasons Luke had in mind. 

The doorbell rang again, and Harry got up from the sofa. “Why don’t you join the others while I get the food?” 

He exhaled on a sigh when he made it to the door. Something was wrong. Instead of feeling excited about Luke coming over, all Harry felt was pure anxiety. What on earth was wrong with him? 

“Shall I help you with that?” Louis popped up next to him, a hand coming to rest on Harry’s waist. He smiled at the delivery boy who was obviously a little starstruck with them. “Hi, love.” 

“I’m--” The boy blushed, and Harry drew Louis a little closer. “Your order. That’s seventy-eight dollars in total.” 

Harry handed the boy the money, as well as a generous tip. “Thanks.” 

“Have a good day.” Louis closed the door with his hip. “Let’s hope he’s got a twitter account.” 

“He’s got--?” Harry frowned slightly, but then caught up. Of course, Louis was here for the public to know that they were spending Christmas together. That was the sole reason he was here. “We should upload a picture on instagram tonight.” 

“Julia’s already sent me a reminder e-mail.” Louis went ahead to the kitchen. “We ought to keep the fan base involved.” 

“I let Gemma and mum know, too. They can help out with their accounts.” 

Louis hummed, unpacking the food. “I hope they don’t mind.” 

“They don’t.” Harry helped him, getting the food out of cartons and onto plates. 

They carried all of it to the dining table where everyone else had taken a seat already. Harry waited for Louis to sit down first and then sat down between his mother and Luke. Like that, he wouldn’t be tempted to touch Louis. Harry was afraid that if they sat too closely, he’d slip and touch Louis in a way that would give them away. 

He knew his mum and Gemma would spot any suspicious behaviour right away. 

“Harry said it’s your birthday tomorrow.” Anne said to Louis, filling her plate with some pasta. “Any special wishes?” 

Louis blinked at her for a moment before he shook his head. “Please, no. Don’t go out of your way for me.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Anne shook her head. “It’s your birthday. Of course we’ll do something special. How do you usually celebrate it?” 

“I’m--” Louis’ voice was rough, and he looked at Harry as if he was pleading for help. Harry had to remind himself not to reach out. “There’s no tradition other than my sisters waking me up early, I guess?” 

Harry laughed. “They don’t even let you sleep in?” 

“You wouldn’t think five people fit in one bed, but we make it work.” Louis pursed his lips. “Well, seven now.” 

“That’s really sweet,” Gemma said. “My brother never came to cuddle me in bed.” 

“You always came to me,” Harry reminded her. “You were in my bed before I could even think about it.” 

Anne and Robin both laughed at that. 

“Do you have any siblings, Luke?” Gemma asked. 

Luke shook his head. “No, I’m an only child.” 

“I thought Harry was one, too, when I first met him.” Louis gave an apologetic smile to Anne. “No offence.” 

“None taken.” Anne winked at him. 

“I’m taking offence,” Harry said, crossing his arms on the edge of the table. “What do you mean, you thought I was an only child?” 

“You seemed pretty selfish.” Louis shrugged, stuffing himself with chips. “You were the epitome of a spoiled brat.” 

“I was  _ not _ .” Harry kicked Louis’ shin under the table. He had to admit he was impressed how Louis didn’t even make a face at that. “You totally misunderstood me.” 

Louis grinned. “Did I?” 

“Obviously.” Harry kicked again, but this time, Louis caught his foot between his own, trapping it there. “I shared my kale smoothie with you.” 

That made Louis laugh full on. His eyes crinkled and his posture loosened up, just like Harry had hoped. When he looked away from Louis, pleased with himself -- which was certainly showing in his expression -- he found everyone else at the table stare at him. Gemma had raised a brow, Luke was frowning slightly, Robin looked amused, and Anne seemed highly interested in the conversation. 

“Have you tried the chicken, mum?” Harry asked, holding out the plate for her. “It’s really good.” 

Anne didn’t say anything, just took some of the chicken. 

“Not all only children are selfish, you know,” Luke said to Louis. 

Louis was caught off-guard, his expression showing how he hadn’t thought about possibly offending Luke. “I know. Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” 

Luke just shrugged, and Harry thought he wasn’t going to live through this night. They needed to get their shit together, and act normal, or else everyone else would soon clock in on what was really going on between them. 

Especially Luke could never find out about that. 

+++

Louis didn’t mean to be petty, but at half eleven at night, he thought it was time for Luke to finally go home. Not that Louis wanted him gone. It was simply an observation.

They were sitting in the living room and Harry had put on a film. Gemma, Anne and Robin looked tired, but they had insisted on staying up as long as possible, so they wouldn’t be waking up at five in the morning. Louis understood that well enough. What he didn’t understand was why Luke was still here. What other reason did he have besides sitting next to Harry, talking in hushed voices, his finger lazily drawing circles on Harry’s arm whenever he wanted Harry’s attention. Louis had to admit it was a pretty good reason to stay, though. 

Louis was pretty sure that everyone in the room probably knew about their arrangement. Harry had certainly told his family about Luke years ago, so they knew that he was just so close to making Luke his now. 

Louis had known it as well. He had known it from the very beginning. Although he knew that it shouldn’t bother him, that he didn’t have a single claim over Harry, watching them was nothing short of torture. He had to physically hold himself back from inserting himself between them on that sofa and show Luke who it was that got to sleep with Harry that night. 

Or so Louis hoped . 

Maybe Harry didn’t want to continue whatever it was they had after last night. Now that Luke was in the picture again and their contract would only run for another week, Louis wasn’t sure how long this thing between them would still hold up. Maybe Harry had enough of Louis, and wanted to focus on Luke instead. 

Harry giggled at something Luke whispered to him, and Louis was about to lose it. He knew what this was. He knew. He had tried to ignore it for the longest time and he had tried to convince himself otherwise. Being confronted with this sight, though, was all the confirmation Louis needed. 

He was jealous, glaringly jealous. He was possessive over Harry. There was a fire inside Louis that urged him on to lay a claim over Harry, even though he had no right to do so. 

Louis was in love with Harry; stupidly, head over heels, hopelessly in love. 

“I think I’ll head to bed.” Robin got up from the sofa, stretching. 

Louis flinched, being pulled from his thoughts. He averted his eyes from Harry and Luke, finding the film had just ended. Gemma was already asleep, and Anne looked barely awake herself. 

“I guess that’d be best,” Harry agreed. “You must be knackered.” 

“Should we wake Gemma?” Anne asked, gently running a hand over her hair. 

“I’ll carry her.” Harry turned to Luke. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” 

Luke nodded. “I’ll wait.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. What was Luke waiting for? There was nothing--- He almost choked on thin air when he realised what was implied there. 

Luke would stay. 

Harry wanted Luke to stay the night. They had simply waited for everyone else to go to bed, so that they could be alone. 

Louis’ heart beat high up in his throat, his pulse stammering hotly in his veins. The thought of Luke taking his place in Harry’s bed made him want to vomit; or better, drop dead that very instant. 

Harry helped Gemma off the sofa. She was heavy against his side, head resting on Harry’s shoulder. He glanced at Louis briefly, then followed his parents out of the living room. Louis gazed after them, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Did Harry expect him to be gone when he came back? 

“Can I ask you something?” Luke said out of the blue, drawing Louis attention back to him. He was still sitting on the sofa, looking comfortable there. As if he didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. 

“Sure.” Louis kept his tone casual. 

“Was there anyone, you know--” Luke gestured vaguely in the direction of the door where Harry had just disappeared through. “Anyone he’s shown interest in lately?” 

Louis blinked. Did Luke know that  _ he _ knew? Had Harry told Luke that Louis knew about their agreement? What was he trying to achieve with this question? Was it a trap to find out whether there was something going on between Louis and Harry? 

He swallowed thickly. It’d probably be best to stick to the official version here. Louis was just contractually dating Harry for publicity. They weren’t close, or personally involved in any way. 

“I don’t think so,” he settled on. “Not that I pay a lot of attention, you know.” 

Luke hummed, nodding briefly. 

“And you?” Louis asked, unable to hold the question in. “Are you interested in anyone?” 

There was a moment of silence, and Luke bit his lip. “I am. But he’s kinda taken.” 

He didn’t know. Luke had no idea about what was going on between Louis and Harry, and he certainly didn’t know that Louis knew about his agreement with Harry. 

“Kinda taken?” Louis asked, trying to act inconspicuous. 

“Maybe it’s more of an unavailable right now?” Luke said it like a question. 

“Sounds complicated,” Louis said. 

“It is.” Luke shrugged. “It really is.” 

They stayed silent after that. Louis wasn’t sure what else to say and Luke didn’t seem to want to say any more either. It was probably better that way. If anything, their conversation had proven that Luke was impatiently waiting for Harry to be free from Louis. In which other way was a person “kinda taken”? He could only mean this publicity stunt where Harry was  _ seen _ as taken. By Louis. Which he really wasn’t. 

When Harry came back, they were still sitting in silence, and both of them turned to him. Louis knew he was selfish, but all he wanted at that very moment was Harry turning to him, and touching him in any way, reassuring him that he was the one who’d stay with him that night. Stay with him for the next year. Forever. 

God, he was so pathetic. 

“Uhm, well.” Louis cleared his throat. He was too scared of watching Harry turn to Luke. It’d shatter him right here in front of Harry, reveal every single one of his feelings for him. “I’ll head to bed, too. See you in the morning, L.A.” He looked at Luke, not daring to even glance at Harry. “Bye, Luke.” 

Without looking back once, Louis fled to his room. He closed the door behind himself and leaned against the cool wood, closing his eyes. There was a good possibility he was the biggest idiot walking this earth. He had fallen in love with the one person he’d never expected to fall for, and who had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn’t interested in anything serious or permanent with Louis.

Harry had been honest from the very start. He had told Louis that he was just holding out for Luke, and when things had become heated between them, he had still been honest. Not for a single moment had he made Louis believe that it was anything more to him than a fun pastime. 

A knock on the door made Louis’ head clear up and he turned around. 

“Louis?” Harry asked quietly. “Can I come in?” 

Stepping back, Louis opened the door. He smiled, trying to act like nothing was wrong. “What’s up?”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, frowning a little. 

Oh God, Harry could never know. He had to come up with something that wouldn’t give him away. “Just a little upset, you know, with my birthday coming up any minute and my family being on the other side of the planet, and I’m really tired--”

Harry shut him up by hurling him into a kiss. Louis tried to protest, but his body betrayed him and he melted into Harry’s touch, hands coming up to frame Harry’s face. He sighed into the kiss, angling his head to grant Harry’s tongue better access. 

“What about Luke?” Louis asked when they pulled away after a minute. 

“He’s gone home.” Harry focused his attention on Louis’ neck, licking and sucking at the skin just beneath Louis’ jaw. 

“I thought he’d stay the night.” The words were out before Louis had even thought about it. Damn, with Harry touching him like that, Louis’ brain-to-mouth filter was out of control. 

Harry shook his head slightly, his hands slipping beneath Louis’ t-shirt. “Wouldn’t know how to explain that to my mum in the morning.” 

Louis didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about any scenario like that while Harry’s lips were on his skin. He knew that at some point really soon, he would have to deal with the issue, would have to accept the fact that the man in Harry’s bed wasn’t him, but Luke. 

Right now, Louis was merely the easier choice. Harry wouldn’t have to explain Louis to anyone in the morning. No one would ever know what happened between them in Harry’s bed, and what Harry had done to Louis’ heart. 

In front of everyone else, they just kept pretending; always pretending. Louis was so, so tired of pretending. 

“God,” Harry moaned, hands coming to grip Louis’ thighs. He easily lifted Louis up, and Louis wound his legs around Harry’s waist. “It’s been so hard to keep my hands off you.” 

Louis’ heart lurched in his chest and he leaned back a little to look at Harry’s face. “Wanted your hands on me all night. Your lips. Harry, your lips.” Louis shuddered, leaning in to claim Harry’s lips once more. 

He didn’t stand a chance. There was no way he was strong enough to refuse Harry. Whatever Louis could get, he’d take it, and he’d deal with his broken heart later. As long as Harry still wanted him, Louis would play along in this game. 

Harry stumbled out of the room, fingers kneading the flesh of Louis’ bum, and his lips not leaving Louis’ for a single second. They only parted when Harry set Louis down on his bed, before crawling on top of him. Louis pulled him closer, as close as physically possible and dipped his tongue into Harry’s mouth again, licking deeper than before. 

Not missing a single beat, Harry started to grind on him. They were both still fully dressed, and the fabric of Louis’ jeans started to uncomfortably stick to his skin, leaving burns with every thrust of their hips. He whined quietly in his throat, bringing a hand between them to open Harry’s jeans. 

Together, they peeled each other out of every bit of clothing and Louis sighed when his skin finally touched Harry’s. He exhaled on a stuttering breath, his hands on Harry’s hips, their legs tangled. Harry playfully licked his lips and moved his hips in slow circles, the heads of their cocks rubbing together, mixing their precome. 

For a while, they stuck to that. They exchanged lazy kisses, gasped and moaned into each other’s mouth, enjoying the intimacy it built between them. It was slow, painfully slow, and there wasn’t an inch of Louis’ body that didn’t touch Harry in some way. 

“So pretty,” Harry murmured, lifting his head. He looked into Louis’ eyes, lips slightly parted and wet from their kisses. “You look so pretty like this.” 

Louis swallowed thickly and ran his fingertips up Harry’s back into his hair, gripping the locks tightly. “You make me--” He stopped himself, knowing full well that he was about to spill his guts. 

Harry kissed Louis’ shoulder and brought a hand up from Louis’ hip to his chest. “I wanna try something.” He pinched one of Louis’ nipples gently, making him arch off the mattress. “Can I try something?” 

“Whatever you want. Anything.” He’d let Harry throw him off a cliff if he wanted to. Right now, Louis would trust him with anything if it meant Harry would make him come apart. 

Kissing him again, Harry pressed Louis into the mattress before he detached himself. Louis protested quietly, following Harry’s mouth, but Harry just smiled at him and sat up. He licked his lips and then rolled Louis over onto his stomach. For a moment, Louis was too confused, not sure what Harry was up to, then Harry shuffled down on the sheets and pressed his lips into the dip of Louis’ lower back.

Louis closed his eyes, trying not to come on the spot. 

Harry slowly trailed his lips down, one hand holding Louis’ hip, the other spreading his legs apart. Louis tried to keep his breathing normal, but when Harry’s fingers brushed his balls, he gave up and whined. 

Harry’s mouth wandered lower. 

Louis pressed his eyes closed, trembling when Harry spread his cheeks, his breath cool against Louis’ hole. He needed all of his concentration to stay in check, to not lose every bit of control over his own body. He couldn’t hold back the loud moan, though, when Harry darted out his tongue, licking over his fluttering hole. 

Harry took his time, slowly licking, lips gentle and firm. He seemed to sense just exactly when Louis was loose enough, had relaxed into it enough for him to take the next step. He pushed his tongue past the rim, tentatively exploring. Louis had lost control by now. He wasn’t sure if it was sweat gathering in his eyes or if he was actually crying. 

“Harry,” he gasped, and breathing seemed so hard to do. “Harry, please. I’m--” 

With that, Harry’s licks got bolder. He didn’t need to talk -- it was all Louis needed to know he had Harry’s permission to come. Harry  _ wanted _ him to come. He worked his tongue into Louis in a steady rhythm, nails digging into Louis’ flesh. Louis searched friction against the bed sheets, and he gripped the pillow above his head, coming apart under Harry’s mouth. The orgasm hit hard, something Louis had never experienced before. He hadn’t known, couldn’t have ever known, that he could come like this. 

Harry kept him in check, holding his hips firmly, licking and thrusting with his tongue until Louis went lax beneath him. Only then did Harry pull away, breathing heavily. Louis turned around, trying to catch his breath, and Harry immediately wiped at his cheeks. They’d been tears, after all. 

Harry’s erection stood hard and red against his stomach, precome smeared all over it. Louis heaved himself up on his elbows and opened his mouth, keeping his eyes on Harry’s face. There were no words needed; Harry understood immediately. 

He straddled Louis’ chest and brought a hand up to grip Louis’ hair. Then he slowly fucked into Louis’ mouth, careful not to hurt him, always so careful with Louis. Even when it should be only about him, Harry always made sure whatever they did fell into Louis’ comfort zone. Right now, he had his eyes on Louis’, holding his gaze while he slowly thrusted into Louis’ mouth. 

Louis felt too lax, too fucked out to even notice if any of it was too much. He hummed around Harry’s cock, pressed his tongue flat to the underside. Harry slid a little deeper, and stayed there, moving his hips in little circles. Tears sprang back to Louis’ eyes, and his jaw hurt, but all of it was hurting in such a good way. He breathed through his nose and sucked, encouraging Harry with a little bobbing of his head to come. 

Harry broke their eye contact when he closed his eyes and threw his head back. His thrusts got bolder again and he stammered out Louis’ name, then he spilled. Louis held his breath and swallowed, trying to catch all of it. His elbows were giving out under his weight and he slid off Harry’s cock, gasping for air. Harry was panting, too, collapsing onto him. 

For a while, they stayed like that; sweat cooling on their skin, and their breathing returning to normal. 

“You okay?” Harry asked, lips warm against Louis’ neck. 

Just this one time, Louis wanted to be honest about this. He hated lying to Harry each time they had sex. “No,” he replied quietly. “Absolutely not.” 

Harry lifted his head, real concern in his expression when he looked at Louis. “What did I---” 

“That was probably the most earth-shattering sex I’ve had in my life,” Louis interrupted him. “You’re really something else, L.A.” 

Relaxing again, Harry smiled. He brought his hand up to brush his fingers over the tears drying on Louis’ cheeks. “You cried.” 

Louis felt his cheeks heat up. He tried appearing casual and shrugged it off. “It was that good.” 

Harry leaned in and kissed him again. His mouth tasted absolutely filthy, and Louis loved him even more now than he had just an hour ago. 

“Happy Birthday, Lou,” Harry murmured against his lips. 

“You sure know how to deliver a good birthday present.” Louis sighed, lazily draping his arms around Harry’s neck. “Thank you.” 

“Thank me in the morning.” Harry tugged at his duvet, draping it over their bodies. 

Louis wasn’t sure what he meant, but he was too tired to ask. Instead, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into Harry’s warmth. Every bit of his jealousy of Luke had been washed away. Harry had sent him home, and even if it didn’t mean anything for now, Louis was glad that he got to keep Harry for a little longer. 

He would have to give this up soon enough. 

+++

Louis was draped over his back when Harry woke up. 

He had known from the first time they had fallen asleep together that Louis was a cuddler. Throughout the past week, however, Harry had come to learn that Louis was possessive in his sleep. He liked to hold, and he clung, and he didn’t leave a doubt that he was completely invested in the physical part of a relationship. 

Which was the only kind of relationship they had. 

Or so Harry had thought. He had to admit that last night, he couldn’t have waited for Luke to leave so he could get his hands on Louis again. From the first second Luke had shown up something had been wrong. Harry hadn’t be able to pinpoint it, right up until the moment he had come back from helping Gemma to bed. 

Louis and Luke had been alone, and Harry’s first instinct had been to touch Louis. He had looked so troubled, worried over something that Harry hadn’t known about, and all Harry had wanted to do was comfort him. 

Throughout their little game, Harry had developed feelings for Louis. No matter how he looked at the situation, he couldn’t deny that. Every touch of Luke’s, every gaze between them, and every word had felt dull, all of a sudden. The only one to blame for that was Louis, and how much he had taken over every bit of Harry’s body. 

It had been ages since Harry had last eaten someone out. He had wanted to do it for Louis, though, had been thinking about it all night. It was such an intimate act, and Louis had let him do it. He had granted Harry permission to be with him in a way that was usually reserved for couples, for people who shared great intimacy. 

Louis trusted him, and Louis wanted him, and for Louis, perhaps this was more than just a nice pastime, too. Harry couldn’t be sure, but he was hoping he wasn’t completely off his game and read all the signs wrong. 

Turning around, Harry watched Louis’ sleeping form. His lips were slightly opened, and his hair was a mess, partly from sleep and partly from Harry pulling it while fucking his mouth last night. God, he had taken it so well. Harry wondered where he had learned it. They never talked about their past, or their experiences. Harry knew that with being in the industry and not being out, Louis’ possibilities had probably been limited. Despite being out from the beginning, Harry’s had been quite limited, too.  

He brushed his thumb over Louis’ cheek, making him sigh sleepily. Louis slowly woke up, shifting closer as if he was searching warmth. Harry smiled and leaned in to kiss Louis’ forehead. Yes, he certainly felt affection for Louis, there was no way he could deny that. 

“Morning,” Louis mumbled in a raspy voice. 

“Morning.” Harry caressed his back with his fingertips. “Birthday boy.” 

Louis giggled, breath warm and moist over Harry’s skin. “Never woke up like this on one of my birthdays. It’s usually a rowdy business.” 

Harry laughed. Then he rolled to his back and pulled Louis with him so that he lay on top of Harry. “We could get rowdy.” 

“No, thanks.” Louis leaned in, taking Harry’s lips in a warm, lazy kiss. They were both filthy from last night, but Harry couldn’t say he minded it. From the way Louis laced their fingers together and licked into Harry’s mouth, he guessed that Louis didn’t mind either. 

“I should really call my family.” Louis sighed against Harry’s lips. “I promised to facetime them.” 

Harry nodded, sitting up as well. “I’ll get started on breakfast.” 

They both rolled out of bed and Louis put on his worn boxer shorts while Harry got a new pair from his dresser. Louis collected the rest of his clothes, looking like a thief with that bunch tucked beneath his arm. Harry laughed at him, holding the door for Louis. He flipped Harry the finger, making his way back to his own room. 

It was still early, so the light flooding the house was soft. Louis’ skin reflected it in gold, giving him that butterscotch shimmer Harry adored so much. He was halfway down the corridor, and Harry was lost in watching his back, watching the muscles in his legs work, when Louis turned around again. He approached Harry in long strides and was in his space before Harry had even caught on. 

Louis’ lips crashed against his, almost biting, his kiss feverish and passionate. Harry squeezed his bum with both hands, pulling Louis’ crotch against his. 

“What was that for?” Harry asked when Louis pulled back, licking his lips. 

Louis’ eyes were hazy, almost grey in the bland morning light. “Just--” He seemed at a loss for words. “For last night.” 

Harry grinned, his thumb following the line of Louis’ cheekbone. “I’m always happy to repeat that.” 

“Maybe I’ll let you.” Louis grinned back, pinching Harry’s love handles playfully. 

Harry shook his head in amusement when Louis turned again and this time, really disappeared into the guest room to make his call. He went to the kitchen, Louis’ taste still on his lips, and the warmth of his skin a ghost touch on Harry’s own. 

The pool house was still quiet, no sign of anyone else, so Harry decided to wait on breakfast until his family was up as well. Instead, he brewed coffee and took it back to the living room to watch some TV before the rest of the house would come awake. 

He froze when he passed the sitting area and spotted Gemma. She was curled up in an armchair, holding a mug and had a cushion hugged to her chest. She sipped quietly, eyes locked on Harry’s. 

“Gem,” Harry said, glancing back at the door to his bedroom. “Why are you up so early?” 

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Let’s not pretend I didn’t see that soft-porn version of you and Louis Tomlinson just now.” 

“That--” Harry choked, and almost spilled his coffee. 

“I should’ve known, really.” She leaned forwards to put down her mug. “I thought something was off with you last night.” 

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and went over to sit down on the sofa then. “How was I off?” As if he didn’t know already. 

Gemma watched him with a concerned expression. “It’s been, what? Three years, since you came to me for the first time, saying that Luke Connolly was the man of your dreams.” 

That was true. Harry had been in love with Luke for such a long time. 

“And you kept whining on about it for all this time. He’s taken and you can’t have him, but he’s so perfect.” Gemma gestured with her hand, imitating Harry’s voice very poorly. “You’ve been stubbornly holding onto that crush for years.” 

“I know.” Harry bit his lip. 

“But last night, Harry?” Gemma laughed dryly. “You were so awkward around him. You didn’t seem overwhelmed with him being here, or keen on keeping him right where he was. Instead, you seemed distracted and even as if you couldn’t wait for him to leave again.” 

Harry ran his hands over his face. He knew that. Niall had grasped it from seeing him only one time with Louis, and Gemma had, too. Only Harry himself had needed ages to grasp it himself. 

He’d been idolising Luke, but he had never really been in love with Luke. 

“I thought it was because we were here and you somehow didn’t feel comfortable flirting, with us being around.” Gemma shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “But you weren’t. Because you’ve been flirting pretty hard with Louis each time you two got to exchange more than two words.” 

That was true. Harry had come to feel comfortable around Louis; and the way they were together, that came just naturally. Harry didn’t have to force anything around Louis. “We just clicked, in a way,” he said, remembering he had already explained it to Niall like that. 

“I saw how you clicked, thank you.” Gemma crossed her arms. “But I should’ve figured it sooner. I mean, what you’re doing for his birthday? That’s not something you’d do for just anyone.” 

“He’s not just anyone.” Harry inhaled deeply, forcing himself to look at her. “He’s not  _ just anyone _ , Gemma.” 

Her expression softened, and she stood up to join him on the sofa, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “I like him much better than Luke, anyway.” 

Harry laughed, burying his face against her shoulder. “Me, too.” 

Gemma patted his back. “What are the chances of falling in love with your pretend boyfriend?” 

That made Harry’s heart jump first, then skip a beat. He hadn’t even dared thinking of that possibility, and here Gemma was -- throwing it around so easily. He needed some more time to walk over those thoughts before admitting to it. 

“Well, not so high, apparently,” he replied to keep his mind off that track. “After all, I’ve had several of them, and it never happened.” 

Gemma hummed in agreement. Then she shook her head. “You’re hopeless, Hazza.” 

“I guess I am.” Harry sighed, drawing back a little. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that.” 

“It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.” She stood up again. “You better take a shower, though. Or else mum will know right away. I’ll go wake them up.” 

Harry watched her leave, then he looked over to the door to the guest room. He sighed, not sure how to go from here. He had known, of course. Deep down, Harry had known what this was, and how he was feeling about Louis. He’d lie if he said the reason he had sent Luke home the night before hadn’t been Louis. For the whole time Luke had been there, Harry had only thought about Louis.

In front of him lay another two days of pretending nothing was going on between them. It had been hard that night, but it’d get harder now. Especially now that Harry was aware that he was falling in love with Louis. How was he supposed to act like they were merely friends?

Going to his bathroom, he stripped out of his boxer shorts again. The shower spray was hot, just exactly what Harry needed right now. He had too much on his mind, too many obstacles in front of him. He’d need to talk to Luke again. As it was now, Harry couldn’t hold up his side of their agreement. Yet, he didn’t know what his chances with Louis were, or if they stood any chance at all. 

All he knew was that whatever he had felt for Luke, had been bland and plain compared to how he felt about Louis now. That thought alone was already scary. Harry didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with everything it entailed. 

Sighing, he tried shoving the thought away for the time being. Right now, Luke was off to Ireland anyway, and Harry had his own family here. He couldn’t afford his mum to get wind of his external crisis. It was enough that Gemma knew. 

Louis wasn’t back from the guest room when Harry came back to the kitchen. Gemma was frying something up in a pan, and she had already set the table. 

“Mum and Robin will be here any minute.” She handed Harry his mug that he had left in the sitting area earlier. “Drink your coffee.” 

“Do you think mum will know?” Harry emptied the lukewarm coffee in one go. 

Gemma raised a brow. “I’d be surprised if she doesn’t suspect it already.” 

“I’m so fucked.” Harry groaned and refilled his mug with fresh coffee. 

“Why?” Gemma frowned. “We like him. I think mum has a soft spot for him.” 

“I don’t even know if I’ll ever introduce him as-- you know.” Harry gestured wildly, trying to get his point across. “I mean.” 

“Your boyfriend?” Gemma supplied. 

Harry exhaled loudly.  _ Boyfriend _ . In connection with Louis, that word was pretty loaded. “Yeah.” 

“I mean. There’s no introducing anymore. We already know him, right?” Gemma shrugged. “And I don’t think any of us would question it if you decided you want him to be your boyfriend.” 

Oh God, the pile of things Harry had to think through was adding up terrifyingly quickly. He forgot about them altogether, though, when Louis came into the kitchen. His hair was still wet and his feet bare. He wore football shorts and a t-shirt, looking completely comfortable. 

Harry’s fingers were itching with the urge to touch him. 

“I can’t believe I’m wearing shorts on Christmas Eve.” He buried his hands in his pockets, eyes roaming over Harry’s body. 

“Welcome to L.A.,” Harry said, filling another mug with coffee. 

Gemma turned around from the cooker and drew Louis into a hug with one arm. “Happy birthday, love.” 

“Thank you.” Louis hugged her back, eying the pan behind her. “And that looks like anything but muddy-green smoothies.” 

She laughed, turning around again. “I’m sure Harry’s got one prepared for you.” 

“I thought I’d spare you today.” Harry handed Louis the mug with coffee. “How was that facetime with your family?” 

Louis averted his gaze, shrugging lightly. “I couldn’t reach them yet. They didn’t pick up.” 

“You can try again later.” Harry set his mug on the counter behind him. “Maybe they’re out right now.” 

“Aren’t you gonna wish Louis a happy birthday?” Gemma asked, acting all innocent. 

“Oh.” Louis gazed from Gemma to Harry and back, looking caught. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Stop it, Gemma.” He poked her side and then looked at Louis again. He hoped Louis wouldn't be mad. This one really hadn’t been on Harry, though. “She saw us earlier.” 

Louis’ mouth fell open. “ _ Oh _ .” The  _ fuck _ was implied.

“So, yeah, you can stop the act now and kiss each other.” Gemma winked at Louis. “Harry’s here been all fidgety since you came in.” 

“Shut up.” Harry mumbled it. He had been, though, so he couldn’t really fight her on it. When he looked at Louis, Harry saw his cheeks were red and that he watched Gemma a little curiously. Then, he seemed to compose himself, his usual demeanour coming back. 

“Maybe I don’t wanna kiss him,” Louis said, sipping from his coffee. His smirk gave him away, though. 

“Say that again.” Harry drew him into his arms, trapping Louis between his legs. 

Louis almost spilled his coffee, and used a hand on Harry’s chest to find his balance. “You’re the worst.” 

“But you wanna kiss me.” Harry laced his fingers over the small of Louis’ back, leaning in. Louis relaxed his body, and Harry loved the way his breathing fanned out against Harry’s lips, all of Louis’ attention focused on nothing but him. It was intoxicating. 

They startled apart when they heard Anne and Robin come through the patio doors. Gemma snorted, and Harry threw her a warning gaze, just to make sure she wouldn’t say anything that would give him and Louis away. Then again, he knew he could trust his sister with his life, and she’d never do anything to hurt him. 

Anne came into the kitchen, going for Louis first. “Happy birthday, lovely. Come here.” 

Louis let her hug him; obviously still a little shook from being almost-caught. He patted her back. “Thank you, Anne.” 

Robin congratulated him as well, and Harry wondered when exactly those two had hit it off, but they exchanged some light banter throughout preparing breakfast. Louis laughed, and Harry was happy to see him be all comfortable and loose around Harry’s family. He wouldn’t want Louis to feel out of place. 

They had just sat down at the table when the doorbell rang. Everyone turned to Harry, and he couldn’t keep the grin in. 

“That might be your birthday present.” He stood up and held out his hand for Louis. “Come on, you should take the delivery.” 

Louis followed him out of the room, whispering when Harry’s family was out of earshot. “You got me a birthday present?” 

Harry stopped in the hallway. “Of course.” 

Louis bit his lip, looking a little sheepish. “I thought last night was my birthday present.” 

“It was. Since we’re gonna do that again, though, I thought I’d get you something more unique.” Harry squeezed his hand, then he went to the door. “I’m not doing anything half-arsed.” 

He opened the door, and Louis’ expression was priceless. His mouth gaped open and his posture slacked completely when he watched his family pile into the house, one person after another. Jay went straight for Louis and pulled him in. He went easily, arms coming around her a little slowly. She said something into his ear, and gently swayed him. Louis tightened his arms around her. 

“Don’t claim him all for yourself, mum.” Fizzy complained and tugged at her arm. Jay let go of Louis and then his sisters crowded around him, each of them trying to hug him at the same time. Louis tried to fit them all into his arms at once. 

“Thanks for the invitation.” Jay came over to Harry, hugging him just as naturally as she had hugged Louis. “That was such a lovely idea.” 

Harry shook his head. “I hope you had a good journey.” 

“I’m starving!” Phoebe announced. “We brought breakfast for everyone, but mum said we had to wait until we’re here.” 

“We’ve just sat down for breakfast.” Anne joined them, putting a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. “Why don’t you bring everything to the table, and then all of us eat together?” 

The kids ran ahead to the dining table, luggage forgotten. Jay laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m sorry. They usually have quite good manners when they’re not so hungry.” 

Anne gestured with one hand, then holding it out for Jay. “Don’t worry about it. It’s lovely meeting you. I’m Anne.” 

They followed, walking through the kitchen to the dining area, too. Harry stayed back, looking at Louis. He just stood there, staring at his family gathering around Harry’s table, his breathing a little heavy. He looked lost there, his expression so open, so vulnerable in that very moment. 

Then, he suddenly turned and approached Harry. Louis stopped in front of him and took Harry’s hands into his own. “You’re right. Absolutely right. I wanna kiss you.” 

Harry blinked. That wasn’t what he had expected Louis to say. “What?” 

“You invited my family for Christmas.” Louis looked over his shoulder, as if to check if they were still there; if it was still true. “You brought me my family as a birthday gift.” 

“I guess I just like seeing you happy.” Harry shrugged, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed himself. “And I knew what would make you happy. So--” 

Louis dropped Harry’s hands and threw his arms around his neck, pressing their lips together. Harry stumbled back slightly, but caught himself with his hands on Louis’ hips. He sank into the kiss, let Louis have it his way. 

“Thank you, really,” Louis whispered against Harry’s lips, his eyes still closed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 

_ He wasn’t just anyone. _ Harry closed his eyes again, too, kissing Louis once more. This thing between them, what they had going on -- that was something else. He couldn’t compare it to anything else, and he had certainly never felt that way about anyone else. It was just him and Louis, and this connection between them, a chemistry that was out of this world. 

It was the most special thing Harry’s ever felt. 

===

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :) <33


	10. Hysteric Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! And this one brings all the angst! 
> 
> Enjoy the read, lovelies <3

 

Louis was almost asleep when Lottie came back from the bathroom. She had changed into pyjama shorts and a tank top, and had tied up her hair in a bun on top of her head. Currently, she was wiping away at her eyes with some oily looking pad.

“That was quite the day,” she said, sitting down next to Louis on the bed.

“It really was.” Louis yawned. “I can’t believe all of you guys are here.”

Lottie hummed. “Harry’s really nice. To invite us to his home like that.”

 _Nice_ didn’t even cover it. People didn’t do things like these from the kindness of their hearts. Louis wanted a moment with Harry alone, just to let him know how much he appreciated the gesture. He also wanted to find out whether there was more to it than simple kindness.

All of this had made him so hopeful, foolishly and stupidly hopeful that Harry felt more for him, too. He had sent Luke home the night before, just to be with Louis. And God, had Harry been with him. Louis had never been with anyone like that, but he couldn’t wait to do it again. He wanted to try everything, wanted to go further than they had.

He felt like he could safely explore everything new about himself, and what he liked with Harry. It was just so easy, the way Harry let him fall and was there every single time to catch him.

Getting Harry alone, though, had become awfully difficult. There were just too many people in the house. He couldn’t even spend the night with Harry anymore because there just weren’t enough beds. Jay and Dan had taken the second room in the pool house, so Gemma had moved into Harry’s room, sharing his bed. All of his younger siblings were in the living room. Harry’s sofa was transformable to a huge lounger, and they had easily enough space there to not only romp around, but also sleep there. Fizzy had stayed with them to make sure they would actually go to sleep, too. Which left Lottie bunking with him.

It wasn’t that Louis minded it. He had shared a bed with Lottie a million times, and when they were home, sharing a bed was always so much more comfortable than sleeping alone. Yet, right now, Louis had rather shared his bed with someone else.

It had only been a week, but somehow Louis had got used to the feeling of sleeping beside Harry, and of waking up next to him. He didn’t even want the sex. He frowned slightly to himself, realising that he did want the sex. Of course he did. However, he wouldn’t mind missing it one night if it meant he could still sleep spooning Harry’s back.

“Have you told mum yet?”

Louis blinked the thoughts away, looking at Lottie as she got comfortable beneath the duvet. “What?”

“What,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “That you’ve got something going on with Harry.”

“Who says I’ve got something going on with Harry?” Louis turned his face, looking at the ceiling.

“Oh, come on!” Lottie clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I’ve seen the looks you’ve given him all day. You’d have jumped him, given the chance.”

“Mum knows.” He sighed. “I told her on the phone the other day. I’m in trouble, Lotts.”

She rolled over, resting her head on his chest. “In trouble how?”

“The worst kind of trouble.” Louis swallowed, nervous to say it out loud. “I fell in love with him.”

For a moment, Lottie was quiet, hand soothingly rubbing over Louis’ stomach. It reminded him of the way his mum had always done it when he was a child, and sick in bed. “You don’t think there’s a chance he feels the same?”

“I don’t know,” he said, blinking once, twice. “He’s not indifferent to me. But he’s been in love with someone else for years. He was here last night, and he’s waiting for Harry. They’re both just waiting for this charade to be over, so they can be together.”

“Did Harry say it like that?” Lottie asked.

“He did.” Louis closed his eyes, forcing himself to stick to the facts, to stay realistic about this. “And why should he give up on a bloke he’s been in love with for years? If he wants Harry, too? He wouldn’t have a reason to gamble on that.”

“You don’t think you could stand a chance?”

“A short fling compared to years of pining for that one guy?” Louis shook his head. “His choice is clear.”

Lottie hummed. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, patting her back. “It’s just like me to go and fall for the wrong person.”

“I don’t wanna sound patronising.” Lottie looked up, resting her chin on Louis’ chest. “But I told you so.”

“I told you so, bla bla.” Louis pinched her side. “That’s the last thing I wanna hear.”

“I think he likes you.” She didn’t even react to his attempt of making fun of her. “What he did for your birthday? That’s nothing you’d do for just anyone, Lou.”

“I’m not saying he hates me.” Louis pursed his lips, shrugging once more. “He does like me, I guess. Harry is just a really good person, you know? He likes to make people happy. Especially people he likes. I know it’s nothing you’d do for anyone, but I don’t think it means much more than that he’s literally the kindest person on earth.”

Lottie chuckled. “You really are in love with him.”

“Shut up.” Louis shoved her gently.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Louis sat up to go answer it, but even before he was out of bed, Gemma came in. She wore a pyjama, too, and had one of the cushions from Harry’s sitting area under her arm.

“Gemma,” Louis greeted her, standing up. “Do you need something?”

“Pack your stuff, Tomlinson, you’re moving.” She came over to the bed, sitting down.

Louis frowned. “What are you on about?”

“You haven’t told him yet?” Gemma turned to Lottie, tilting her head.

“I wanted to.” Lottie popper herself up on her elbow. “You’re sleeping with Harry. Gemma and I decided to bunk together.”

“Why would you do that?” Louis blinked, not quite sure he could keep up. “You don’t even know each other.”

“We know each other well enough to notice that you spent the last few nights in Harry’s bed, too.” Gemma gestured at the door. “Stop asking questions, mate. Just go.”

Louis wanted to argue, but he didn’t know how. It wasn’t like he wanted to convince them to drop that plan. He felt like he should be arguing, though.

Lottie laughed at him. “Go, Lou. It’s not that deep.”

“Whatever.” Louis grabbed his mobile phone, and went to the door. “You two think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“Just say thank you.” Gemma flipped him the finger.

Louis opened the door, then he turned, looking from Gemma to Lottie. “Thank you,” he said softly, well aware that Lottie would understand. She just smiled, waving him off, and Louis closed the door behind himself.

He quietly moved down the corridor to Harry’s room, taking a deep breath when he stopped in front of the door. Softly, he knocked, not sure if he was allowed to just go in. He had never walked into the room without Harry -- it had always been Harry, either dragging or carrying Louis inside.

The door opened, and Harry looked as nervous as Louis felt.

“Gemma and Lottie, they--” Louis stopped himself, shrugging. “I kinda need a place to stay tonight.”

Harry relaxed visibly, a smile forming on his lips. “Turns out there’s some space in my bed.”

Louis walked in when Harry stepped aside. “I had hoped so.”

They were both quiet after Harry had closed the door again. Louis wrung his hands together, not sure what he should do or say. What Harry expected from him. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to look up at Harry.

It threw Louis off a little when he found Harry’s eyes on him already.

“I told Lottie,” he said. It was the first thing that came to his mind right now.

Harry hummed. “I mean. She probably didn’t think we’d have a tea party in here.”

Louis snorted. “Obviously not.”

“We could have one, if you wanted.” Harry shrugged. “Doris and Ernest would probably be upset, though. You know, because they weren’t invited.”

He wasn’t wrong. And so, so wonderful for having that thought alone. Louis let his eyes roam over Harry’s face, trying to find a sign, anything that would tell Louis how Harry felt about this. Because Louis was so head over heels in love, he had no idea what to do with himself.

Harry had spent the day running after little kids, had held imaginary tea parties, had let Daisy braid his hair and Phoebe paint his nails. He had helped Anne and Jay in the kitchen, and had sat beside Doris during dinner to make sure she ate all of her food. He had watched Frozen with the girls at the end of the night and had made sure they were all tucked up in bed afterwards.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” Louis said, unable to hold it in.

Harry bit back a grin, looking down at his feet. “Glad you finally noticed.”

“You tried hard.” Louis took a step towards Harry, hands crossed behind his back. “To impress me?”

“Impress you?” Harry brought a hand up to touch Louis’ face. “That’s useless. You’ve already made up your mind.”

“Pretentious,” Louis said, eyes on Harry’s lips. “You’re so pretentious.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Louis was sure he had an answer, wanted to say something, but his mind blanked. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s, just a tentative swipe. Harry sighed quietly, tilting his head and kissing Louis back just as calmly, carefully.

“You’re so bloody good,” Louis said, pushing Harry to the bed. “I can’t wrap my head around it.”

Harry went easily, sprawling out on the sheets, and letting Louis straddle him. He rested his hands on Louis’ thighs and licked his lips. “I just thought it’d make your birthday better.”

“You were right.” Louis leaned in again, kissing Harry deeply.

For the first time, their kiss wasn’t something heated or part of foreplay. They simply kissed for the sake of kissing, for the sake of being close. Louis loved the feeling it gave him; the warmth and the affection. He slid his fingers between Harry’s and gently tangled them together. Harry didn’t put up a single sign of resistance.

“Thank you.” Louis murmured against Harry’s lips. “I don’t know if I even got around to saying it today? But that was honestly the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Harry smiled, shaking his head. “Anytime.”

Swallowing, Louis held back the words. Right here, in the secure privacy of Harry’s room, confessions of love and commitment lay on his tongue, ready to spill out of his mouth. He bit the words back, knowing that the risk of scaring Harry away with them was way too high.

“You really are something else, L.A.,” he said instead, trying to convey as much as possible with those words.

“When will you stop calling me that?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

“Never.” Louis slid down from Harry, curling up at his side. “You’re stuck with that nickname forever.”

“Flattering.” Harry lifted one of Louis’ arms and nuzzled against his chest.

“I was planning on thanking you properly,” Louis murmured. He pulled the duvet over them and shifted his legs a little to align them with Harry’s. “I’m just so tired.”

“No need to thank me more than you already have.” Harry blew a butterfly kiss against Louis’ neck. “It’s enough if you cuddle me for a bit.”

Louis reached over Harry’s body to turn out the light. “I guess I can do that.”

They fell asleep like that, tangled with each other, in each other. Louis listened to Harry’s breathing for a while, wondering if the fact that he was in Harry’s bed only to sleep next to him meant anything.

He wanted to hope it did.

+++

“You have no reason to be scared.”

“That’s said so easily when it’s not about you.” Harry frowned slightly, giving Louis an upset look.

Smiling, Louis reached out and took Harry’s hand between his, shifting a little closer to him. He looked cute like that, and Louis couldn’t help the urge to touch him. “It’s only your hair, L.A.”

“Only,” Harry repeated breathlessly, putting his free hand over his chest in shock. “Only!”

Gemma laughed from the other side of the room. “You better get over with it quick, Babs.”

The room was full of people. The kids were playing outside in the garden, but everyone over the age of eighteen had joined Harry in this venture of having his hair cut off. As if that act was rated R.

He sat on one of the kitchen stools, hair wet and a towel around his shoulders. Barbara stood behind Harry, getting ready, and Louis sat next to him on the armrest of one of the chairs.

“Shall we?” Barbara asked.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and everyone fell quiet.

“Who’s that?” Lottie asked.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll go open the door.” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand again. “Be back in a minute. Don’t start without me.”

Christmas had been so busy, it was possible that they had simply forgot about a delivery. The past two days had been absolutely crazy, and yet, the most wonderful Louis had ever had. His sisters had loved having a barbeque instead of a Christmas roast. They had played in the pool all day, and in the evening, they had watched a film together. A Christmas classic, of course, just to keep at least one tradition up.

Louis couldn’t say he hadn’t liked spending Christmas in the sun. He had always imagined it to feel so wrong, but at the end of the day, what mattered the most was that he was with his family, and not where they were.

It had been easy to blend in with Harry’s family. Anne and Jay had hit it off from the get go. They were talking non-stop, exchanging stories and finding things they had in common. Gemma was witty and clever, and had the biggest heart. Louis had instantly liked her, and the time spent together had only proven that he hadn’t been wrong about her.

This had definitely been a Christmas to remember, and Louis couldn’t even imagine going back to a life where he wouldn’t keep in touch with the people he had spent it with. He had seen Gemma and Lottie exchange numbers, so he hoped that he got to hear from her through Lottie every now and then.

After all, Louis had Harry’s number, too. He just wasn’t sure if he was allowed to still use it when their contract expired in a few days. When Harry would finally be free to be with Luke. Maybe Harry wouldn’t want Louis to call him again. Not even as friends.

Louis wasn’t sure he could be just friends with Harry.

He opened the door, surprised to find Niall on the other side.

“Louis, mate!” Niall went for a hug without hesitation. “Great, you’re still here.”

“I’m--” Louis hugged him back, not sure what to say.

“How much longer are you gonna stay?” Niall kicked off his shoes and went ahead, obviously feeling at home in Harry’s house.

“Our flight’s tonight.” Louis followed him. “We’re about to start packing.”

They reached the living room and Niall went inside, greeting everyone with warm hugs. Louis stayed behind, wondering what it was he had come for.

“It’s the big day, Haz.” Niall sat down where Louis had previously sat. “I thought I’d better be by your side.”

Harry tilted his head, looking unimpressed. “You read my text about getting my hair cut today, and thought it was a good opportunity to see Babs.”

Niall grinned. “Or, I thought it was a good opportunity to support a friend in a rough time.”

“A likely story.” Harry shook his head. “Keep the heavy flirting for after she’s cut my hair.”

“Don’t tell me that.” Niall winked at Barbara. “Tell her.”

“As if I’d ever flirt with you.” Barbara blushed, turning away to take a comb.

“I could remind you of last Tuesday when we--”

“Okay, let’s get that hair cut off,” Barbara said loudly, throwing Niall a warning glance.

“I’m a little scared.” Harry glanced over his shoulder at Barbara. “Don’t shave my hair off, just because he annoys you.”

Louis exchanged a grin with Gemma, and stepped forwards. “Niall, stop distracting Barbara. She’s got an important job to do.”

“She’s distracting me!” Niall made a helpless gesture.

“From what?” Gemma and Lottie asked in unison.

Defeated, Niall rolled his eyes and backed off, letting Barbara do her job. Harry shook his head, smiling fondly, but still looking a little pale around the nose. His eyes landed on Louis and for a moment, Louis hoped he read Harry’s expression correctly.

He knew he hadn’t been wrong about what Harry wanted when he stepped closer and Harry visibly relaxed. Louis held out his hand again, letting Harry cling to it. He kept his eyes fixed on Louis’ face when Barbara tied Harry’s hair between her fingers and cut it off in one smooth motion.

“It’s done,” Anne said. “Now it’s just a trim from here.”

Harry exhaled shakily. Short strands of hair fell over his ears and Louis dared reaching out to touch them briefly. It felt different, but just like Louis had expected, Harry was still the same, still looking gorgeous. It was unfair, the way he even looked great with a ridiculous, unfinished haircut like this one.

“See. That wasn’t all that bad, babe.” Louis briefly rubbed his thumb soothingly over the skin behind Harry’s ear.

Harry looked a little alarmed, and Louis needed a moment to figure out why; then he remembered they were not alone in the room. He drew his hand away and looked at Lottie, taking a step back.

“You got that on Snapchat?” he asked.

Lottie lowered her mobile, not letting anyone catch on. Louis would have to thank her later for playing along unprompted. “Just added it to my story.”

Barbara told Harry to tilt his head a little, then she started to cut the rest of his hair. Louis stayed where he was, his hands buried in his pockets, pretending not to care too much. His fingertips were prickling, itching to reach out and touch Harry again. Comfort him.

Harry was just vain. He really had no reason to make such a huge deal out of this. It was just his hair, and it would grow out again. No reason to act like he was going through hell and back because of a simple haircut.

Louis wished he could see it that way. Yet, he knew Harry; well enough to know that it wasn’t vanity that made him act this way. Sure, it played its part, but the main reason Harry was so anxious about this was that he didn’t like changes. He knew that there’d be reactions to this new style, and that it would make people talk.

He didn’t like being talked about in that way. He wanted to be talked about because of his acting, or his skills. The only thing people were really interested in, however, were a celebrity’s looks, fails, and love life.

Harry had given them a lot to talk about in the past few months.

He’d give them even more to talk about when their teams were going to get those break-up articles out next months. Even more, though, when Harry was going to show up with Luke at the Oscars -- if they weren’t spotted together before that.

Louis’ stomach turned at that thought and he forced himself to stay calm and quiet. He watched Harry lift his head again, eyes instantly landing on Louis. He looked a little helpless there, his gaze searching for validation and comfort.

“I always liked you better with short hair,” Niall said, crossing his arms. “Makes you look a bit younger, though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Harry smirked a little.

While Barbara was still busy cutting Harry’s hair off, their families slowly trickled out of the room. Lottie and Gemma were last to leave, excusing themselves to prepare dinner. Only Niall stayed, as if he knew that Harry wanted him there until the end.

“Before I forget.” Niall moved over to the sofa. “I’m throwing my annual after show party in January.”

“After show for what?” Louis asked.

“For the year.” Niall grinned. “Anyone can throw a New Year’s party. I’m throwing an after show party in January. You guys are invited, of course.”

Louis glanced at Harry, not sure what to say. They wouldn’t go together, after all. There wouldn’t be any reason to.

“Liam already agreed to come,” Niall added, as if he knew Louis needed a reason.

“I’ll be there,” Harry said. “As always.”

Niall hummed, watching Barbara. “I didn’t have a doubt about that.”

“Can we bring people?” Louis asked.

“‘Course.” Niall shrugged. “No problem.”

“Cool.” Louis turned to Barbara. “Will you go with me, Babs?”

She jumped a little, almost cutting Harry’s ear. “What?”

“Fuck, Louis.” Harry kicked his foot against Louis’ shin. “Don’t do shit like that while she’s cutting my hair.”

Louis chuckled, reaching out to pat Harry’s cheek lightly. He kept his eyes on Barbara, though. “What do you say?”

“It’s not like she wasn’t invited already,” Niall pointed out.

Louis rolled his eyes at him. “You want me to help you out here, or what?”

Niall raised his hands in a defensive gesture, lowering his head a little.

“Why should I go with you?” Barbara asked, crossing her arms.

“Because I hate going to parties on my own. You’re fun.” Louis shrugged innocently, knowing he had his biggest ace still up his sleeve. “Also, Lottie’s coming too, and I’m sure she’d love to have you around.”

Barbara’s eyes lit up. Louis knew that it didn’t need any more convincing than that. “You really think she’d want that?”

“Of course.” Louis nodded.

For a moment, she was quiet, glancing at Niall a few times. She pursed her lips, tapping the comb against Harry’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay,” she said then, grinning at Niall first, before she looked at Louis. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh my God, I love you.” Niall jumped off the sofa and hugged Louis, kissing his cheek sloppily.

Louis laughed, shoving Niall off. “The rest is up to you, mate.”

Barbara shook her head, still grinning while giving Harry’s hair a few final touches.

“How come you never got to convince her before?” Niall asked Harry. “Did you even try?”

“Not once,” Harry said drily, removing the towel from his shoulders.

“I’ll go get something to sweep the floor.” Barbara fled the room.

“Wait.” Niall followed her, hot on her heels.

Louis gazed after them for a moment, then he turned to Harry. “As if she needed any convincing.”

Harry shook his head. “She knows exactly what she wants.”

Louis stepped closer and reached out. Harry’s hair was still damp, and messed up from Barbara kneading products into the strands. “You look cute.”

“Cute.” Harry looked a little uncertain. “Not sure about that.”

“I like it.” Louis pulled Harry’s head a little closer, lips brushing over Harry’s. “You had nothing to be scared of. Still gorgeous.”

Harry’s breath hitched and he leaned in to kiss Louis properly. Maybe Louis had said too much; maybe he wasn’t supposed to call Harry _gorgeous_. But he was. Why shouldn’t Louis tell Harry? There was a reason, wasn’t there? Louis couldn’t remember. Not with Harry’s lips on his own.  

“Thanks for calming my nerves,” Harry murmured, resting his forehead against Louis’. He still had his eyes closed. “It’s just hair, I know.”

“It’s your hair,” Louis reminded him. “You're allowed to dread a change like that.”

Harry opened his eyes, and they were dark; the green turning into a stormy grey. “You’re not supposed to be this nice to me.”

Louis managed a smirk. They’d leave in a few hours, and he had no idea how he was supposed to muster up the courage to tell Harry how he felt about him before that. He didn’t know if he should tell Harry at all. Maybe today was the last time they’d ever see each other, anyway.

“Am I supposed to tell you that you shouldn’t be this whiny about your hair? That you’re a vain chinless wonder?” Louis tilted his head a little. “Is that what you’d like to hear?”

“Is that what you really think?” Harry asked.

“It’s what I should be thinking.” Louis ran his fingers down Harry’s back, resting it over the curve of his bum.

Harry’s gaze lost focus. Louis knew exactly what he was thinking about, where his thoughts had drifted off to. Louis had finally got around to thank Harry properly the night before. Things had turned a little heated, and definitely intense between them when Louis had fingered Harry open. He didn’t think he’d ever forget how beautiful Harry had looked when he had ridden his orgasm out on Louis’ fingers.

It had probably been the last time they’d slept together, touched each other like that. The thought made Louis swallow around a lump in his throat. He didn’t want this to end.

“There are kids in the house, you know.”

Louis startled, and Harry pulled back, eyes clearing. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms behind his back.

Lottie hip-checked Louis when she passed him, a small bag in one hand. “Babs allowed me to take over from here and style your hair.”

“Great.” Harry sat down again, nervously glancing at Louis.

Licking his lips, Louis stared back. He wondered if they were on the same page, at all. He couldn’t tell, didn’t know. All he knew was that Harry had planned to be with Luke once January rolled around.

Was he just a pastime? A replacement as long as Harry couldn’t be with Luke? Louis had no idea what to make of all this. Harry certainly enjoyed his company, and he definitely enjoyed the sex. Louis just wasn’t sure there were any feelings beyond those on Harry’s part.

He left the room, needing distraction from his thoughts -- from Harry.

Maybe leaving was for the best right now. With a little distance, it’d be easier for him to sort through those feelings, and to make a clear judgement of how serious they really were. Maybe then he’d understand what was going on in his mind.

And in his heart.

+++

“Thanks so much for the invitation, Harry.” Jay hugged him again, repeating the words for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You’re more than welcome.” Harry hugged her back. “It was great having you here.”

She held on for a moment longer. “Thanks for taking care of Lou, too.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He wondered if Jay knew about anything going on between him and Louis. Mothers had a sixth sense for these kinds of things. His own mum had made a few comments over the past days, letting Harry suspect that she had seen right through the pretence.

Jay didn’t wait for an answer before she let go. She winked at Harry once, then she helped Dan with the luggage. Harry watched them for a moment, before his attention focused on Louis again. He was helping the toddlers into their safety seats, buckling their belts. They had two cars, and Louis was going to drive one of them.

“Okay, we’re all good to go.” Lottie closed the boot of the car and went to the passenger seat.

Everyone else got into the cars, then it was only Louis left. Gemma put an arm around Harry’s waist, as if to give him comfort. The worst part was, that Harry really needed it. He crossed his arms, keeping himself from saying anything. What really was there to say?

 _Please don’t go_ , or _please stay_ . _Don’t let this be the last time we’ve seen each other._

_I want more._

Harry couldn’t say any of it. Not under these circumstances.

“I forgot my sunglasses,” Louis said suddenly. “Give me a minute.”

He turned and went back into the house, eyes not meeting Harry’s when he passed him and his family. Harry gazed after him, his feet prickling with the urge to move.

“I’m---” He looked at Gemma. “I’ll see if I can help him find them.”

When he came inside, Louis stood in the sitting area, already turned to Harry.

“Could you find them?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t forget my sunglasses.” Louis licked his lips, holding Harry’s gaze. “I had hoped you’d follow me.”

Harry’s heart sank and before he even knew it, he was in Louis’ space.

“I wanted another moment with you alone.” Louis looked so serious, determined, and Harry wondered what it was that etched a furrow between his brows. “I wanted to say goodbye properly.”

Inhaling shakingly, Harry reached out to touch Louis’ face. “Me, too.”

“Pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t as bad as I initially thought it would be.” Louis smiled slightly.

“ _You_ didn’t turn out as bad as I initially thought you’d be,” Harry shot back, grinning a little.

They were silent for a moment, and Harry wanted to say more. He just didn’t know what, and how.

“I’ll see you for Niall’s party?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded. “Of course.”

Louis nuzzled his cheek against Harry’s palm, turning his head a little to kiss it. “Take care, babe.”

Harry’s throat felt tight, and he wasn’t sure he could breathe properly. He leaned in and sealed Louis’ lips with a kiss. A soft drag, a gentle swipe, their tongues meeting lazily. Harry drew it out, one last time, to take in all of it. Louis tilted his head slightly, moving with Harry, as if he predicted every one of his moves.

They parted and Louis squeezed Harry’s waist.

A pastime. This had been nothing but a pastime. It had been labelled with an expiration date from the very beginning, and both of them had been aware of it. This had never meant to become anything more than a _convenient pastime_.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt.

Louis let go and went past Harry to the door. Harry knew he should follow, make it look like everything was fine, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened in here. He felt frozen, though, his feet felt like they were nailed down.

“Hey, L.A.,” Louis said, and Harry turned. He stood at the front door, his sunglasses in one hand and a smile on his lips. “Good luck with Luke. I’m rooting for you.”

Before Harry could say anything back, Louis was out of the house, hurrying over to the car. Harry stayed at the door, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Louis get into the car. He didn’t look back once, didn’t give a single glance in Harry’s direction.

He lifted a hand and waved when everyone else did, then the cars disappeared down the road, becoming two dark blobs in the distance. Harry still gazed after them when they were long gone and Anne and Robin had already gone back into the house.

“You okay?” Gemma asked quietly, touching his arm.

“I don’t know.” Harry tore his eyes from the road and looked at her. “I really don’t know.”

Gemma hummed. “You’ll figure it out.”

+++

“A little more to the left.”

Louis turned his body slightly, looking up into the camera. The shutter clicked several times before Louis changed his pose.

“Beautiful!” The photographer lowered the camera, giving Louis a thumbs-up. “That’s a wrap.”

Louis relaxed his body, shoving up the sleeves of his suit jacket. It was loosely hanging off his shoulders, the white dress shirt unbuttoned and gaping open over his torso. He wasn’t sure how pictures of him half-undressed were going to sell a perfume, but everyone else in the room was convinced it was going to work magic. Louis had stopped questioning that logic a long time ago.

“Well,” Oli said when Louis joined him at the laptops monitoring the shots taken of Louis in the last few hours. “Looks like your moody mug was at least good for one thing.”

Louis frowned at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oli pointed at the pictures. They had a dark atmosphere, and Louis’ serious expression fit in perfectly. “I wonder how this had gone if they’d asked you to act happy and carefree today.”

“I just did what they asked of me.”

“You’ve been grumpy all week.” Oli crossed his arms. “I don’t even know when I’ve seen you laugh the last time.”

“That’s not true.” Louis picked up his mobile phone and checked for any missed notifications. There were none. “I’ve been completely normal.”

Oli snorted. “Yeah, sure. Whatever’s bitten you, get over it.”

Louis turned, making his way back to the dressing room to get changed. He wouldn’t have that conversation -- especially not when Oli’s accusations were completely unfounded.

Nothing was wrong. Absolutely nothing.

When he closed the door to his dressing room behind himself, Louis leaned against it, letting go of his breath. The room was quiet, only a few noises from the corridor audible through the walls. His clothes were hung up on a rack next to a sofa, waiting for him to get changed into.

Louis checked his mobile again, staring at the display for a few seconds.

Harry hadn’t called.

It wasn’t like Louis was waiting on it. They hadn’t made any deal to call or text, or stay in contact. Yet, Louis had hoped that Harry would give him a sign that whatever they had going on had been more than a fling after all.

He missed Harry’s presence in his life. He had got used to having Harry around, to share his thoughts with Harry, and to laugh with him. They had shared food, and clothes and beds. Just like a couple did. It wasn’t easy to get used to being alone again. At some point, Louis had stopped pretending altogether, and now he couldn’t go back to how it was before.

The new year had come around quietly. Louis had celebrated it in London with his family this year, deciding against going out to party. Instead, he had stayed up with his younger sisters to watch the fireworks in their Doncaster home.

At midnight, he had wondered if Harry had been on the other side of the globe, preparing for a new year’s party. If he was going to kiss Luke.

He sighed and stripped out of the suit to get changed. His eye caught Harry’s photo on the cover of one of the magazines lying on the table. He dropped the shirt and reached out to read the headline.

_Heartbroken - This is how Harry Styles deals with splitting from Louis Tomlinson._

Frowning, Louis opened the magazine on the page of the article. He knew that whatever it said was bullshit; something Julia had come up with to sell the stunt until the very end. Yet, the pictures of Harry looking pale and moody got straight to Louis’ heart.

 _Styles left the party alone_ , it read beneath a picture of Harry getting into a car. _Too drunk to walk on his own, a bodyguard had to help him into the car,_ it read beneath another. A third one was titled as, _Styles came alone to the party and left alone_.

Louis frowned and scanned the article, skimmed through the text for any more information. All he could gather was that Harry had arrived by himself and that he had got drunk before it had even been midnight. Insider claimed that he had been broody all night and hadn’t interacted with a lot of people. Since he had arrived on his own, and Louis had been spotted in England, it was safe to assume that they had broken up -- that Louis had dumped him.

Louis knew that a big part of it was made up; made up by his very own team. Yet, Harry did look exhausted, and sad, and so, so vulnerable in those pictures. Louis couldn’t even stand the thought of it.

He jumped slightly and shoved the magazine onto the table when Oli came into the room without knocking. “Mate, we gotta leave.” He tilted his head slightly and made a confused gesture with his hands. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“I’m--” Louis shook his head and quickly got rid of the suit trousers before changing into his own clothes. “Just a minute.”

“The car is waiting.” Oli held the door. “Your location’s got out, so a few fans have gathered outside.”

“Don’t worry,” Louis said. He took his mobile and checked again if he had everything on him before he followed Oli out of the room. “I’m good to meet them.”

“You sure?” Oli frowned a little.

Louis nodded. “Very sure.”

Oli didn’t say anymore, just stayed back enough to let Louis’ bodyguard trail behind Louis when they walked outside. A small crowd had gathered there, excited to see him. Louis stopped to sign a few magazines and pictures of himself, then he took selfies with the fans, giving thumbs-ups and bright smiles to the mobile phones held in front of his face.

“Louis, it’s not true what they’re saying, right?” a young woman asked, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Louis signed her photo, glancing up at her. “What do you mean?”

“You and Harry.” She grabbed his hand to keep his attention. “You haven’t broken up, have you?”

“Hey!” Louis’ bodyguard pulled her off him. “That’s a bit too forward.”

Louis stared at her. His heart beat wildly in his chest. “What?”

“You wouldn’t break his heart, would you?”

“Come on, Louis.” Oli was by his side suddenly, urging him to move to the car.

He was shoved into the backseat of the car, and the door slammed shut. For a moment, Louis stared at the tinted window, watched the fans outside trying to get another glimpse at him.

He _wouldn’t_. Of course he wouldn’t ever hurt Harry. It was absurd that anyone could even take it into consideration. Harry had been nothing but lovely to him, with him. Maybe not in the beginning, but Louis hadn’t been exactly lovely then, either. Yet, when they had slowly warmed to each other, Harry had proven to be the kindest and sweetest man Louis had ever met.

Harry deserved to be loved and cherished and treated with nothing but gentleness.

Louis’ heart dropped to his stomach when the car started moving. Maybe he hadn’t been able to do that? What if all those pictures showed what Louis had done to him? What if Harry looked miserable and drawn-out because of Louis? What if it was his fault?

He _loved_ Harry -- how could he ever hurt him?

“Oli.” Louis leaned forwards in his seat, waiting for Oli to turn around. “Book me onto the next available flight to L.A.”

Oli blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I need to go to L.A. Today.”

“You’re going in two days anyway, Louis.” Oli frowned. “For that casting and Horan’s party.”

Louis shook his head. “I need to be there today. Check flights.”

Sighing, Oli opened an app on his mobile, typing away for a minute. “There’s one in four hours.”

Louis nodded, gesturing for Oli to proceed. “And I’ll be on it.”

+++

Harry rubbed his hands together, nervously staring at the door in front of him. He took another deep breath, trying to muster up the courage to knock. His heart beat up in his throat and he tried to swallow around it.

He’d come a long way to do this, and now that he was here, he wouldn’t back down.

Firmly, Harry knocked at the door, letting the sound echo through the long corridor. No one else was around; every other door was closed. For a moment, he was afraid he got the wrong door and he wouldn’t get to see---

The thought abruptly left his mind when the door opened.

“Harry.” Luke stared at him, obvious surprise in his expression.

“Sorry for dropping by like this.” Harry bit his lip and crossed his arms behind his back. “I should’ve called first.”

Luke still stood frozen in his spot. “What are you doing here?”

“I--” Harry looked down the corridor when the lift doors opened. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” Luke stepped aside and let Harry pass. “I’m a little surprised to see you here, to be honest. Almost didn’t recognise you with that short hair.”

Harry briefly touched his har. It reminded him of Louis holding his hand throughout the cutting process. He’d been so, so lovely about it, even though Harry had acted like a spoiled brat. It had only been a haircut, but Louis had played along to Harry’s dramatic act.

He nodded, pressing his lips together. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And you didn’t think you could’ve called me?” Luke raised a brow. “Instead, you came all the way to Canada?”

“I thought we’d better have this conversation face to face.” Harry shrugged, looking around the hotel room nervously.

It had taken a lot of effort to overcome his fears, but Harry had known that the conversation he needed to have with Luke couldn’t wait. It couldn’t have happened on the phone, either. Harry owed Luke a proper talk.

Even if that meant flying from L.A. to Quebec City.

It had taken Harry a few days, but after his family had left from L.A., too, Harry had realised that he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He missed Louis. He wanted to wake up next to Louis, and he wanted to make him drink kale smoothies, watching Louis make a face at it, but still drink all of it. He missed the way Louis laughed and argued and breathed.

As soon as Harry had realised that he had to get Louis back, he had booked a flight to Canada, where Luke was currently filming, to see him. Talking to him in person was the only fair thing to do. He had gone through a break-up with the person he had loved, and the last thing Harry wanted to do was hurt him.

Yet, there was no way Harry could be with Luke anymore. Not after what he had experienced with Louis. If he had thought he’d been in love with Luke, those three months with Louis had taught him just how wrong he had been.

It wasn’t comparable. What he felt for Louis was so much more than anything Harry had ever felt for someone else. He had fallen fast, and he had fallen hard -- and Harry knew it was for real. There’d never be anyone like Louis again in his life.

He’d never love anyone the way he loved Louis.

“I’ve got a feeling I know what this is about.” Luke went past Harry and gestured for him to sit on the sofa.

“You do?” Harry followed, watching Luke closely while he sat down.

“It’s January.” Luke opened a water bottle that was set beside two glasses on the table. “And we made a deal.”

Harry rubbed his palms over his thighs. His stomach felt like it was in knots. “You make it sound like we set up a contract.”

Luke laughed, putting one glass in front of Harry. “True. But it was a bit like that, wasn’t it?”

He wasn’t wrong. What they had made, was a pact, a deal, an agreement. In retrospect, it didn’t feel like a decision made based on feelings. Harry couldn’t even remember what he had felt at that time.

He remembered that Louis had been at his house that day. They had taken that picture on the sofa and his body had perfectly slotted against Harry’s -- Harry had stared at that picture for way too long during his flight here.

“So, I guess this is about Louis?”

Harry looked up at Luke, his words bouncing off the walls of his skull. He tried to speak, but his lips were too numb, and his throat oddly dry.

Luke smiled at him, sympathy showing on his face. “A blind man would’ve noticed, Harry.”

“I’m--” Harry cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Tilting his head, Luke put the lid back on the bottle. “I think it may be really better that we’re doing this in person.” He waited a moment, and when Harry looked at him, Luke shrugged lightly. “You have no reason to be sorry, Harry.”

“But, we kinda-- and I just--” Harry stopped, taking a deep breath. “I think I owe you an explanation, at least.”

“There’s nothing to be explained.” Luke smiled, shaking his head. “You were pretty obvious when I came over before Christmas.”

Harry fidgeted his pullover. “What do you mean?”

“You couldn’t take your eyes off him,” Luke said. “And it was clear something was going on between you two.”

Harry swallowed. “It wasn’t deliberate. It just kinda happened.”

“I’m not mad, Harry.” Luke shifted a little, getting more comfortable on the sofa. “It’s good you came, because I needed to talk to you, too.”

“You do?”

Nodding, Luke laced his fingers. “I’ve been seeing Chris again.”

That name poked some distant feeling in Harry’s chest. Just a few months ago, it had burned jealousy into Harry’s veins. Now, it didn’t do anything to him.

“He’s seeing other people.” Luke lowered his gaze, looking troubled. “And it made me realise that I can’t simply give up on what we had.”

“I get that.” Harry reached out tentatively to touch Luke’s arm.

Looking up at Harry, Luke seemed firm in what he said. “I still love him.”

The only feeling that entailed from Harry was relief. He felt his lungs expand on the breath he took.

“I actually talked to Louis about it.” Luke looked apologetic. “I asked him if you saw anyone, hoping that if you met someone else that’d save me of having the awkward conversation with you, where I explain that I’m still in love with my ex.”

Harry couldn’t help the smile. “And look where we’re now.”

Luke giggled quietly. “Louis said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“That’s not really what was going on between us.” Harry shrugged. “And we agreed to keep it a secret.”

Luke hummed. “Can I say something else?”

Harry nodded. “Go ahead.”

“He hated me, that night.” Luke kept his eyes on Harry’s face. “He kept glaring at me, and it didn’t take much to figure he was jealous.”

That made Harry’s stomach flutter with hope. “You think so?”

Luke frowned slightly. “You don’t know?”

“We didn’t really--” Harry shook his head, trying to find the right words. “It’s why I’m here. I wanted to know where I stand, wanted to be sure we’re good before I let this thing with Louis get serious.”

“Well. If you’re not mad at me, then we’re all good.” Luke smiled at Harry, nudging his knee with one foot. “It’s very noble of you to end our little deal first before diving into something else.”

“I think I was in denial for a long time.” Harry bit his lip, the flesh already feeling raw from how much he had worried it over the past few days. “I should’ve talked to you sooner.”

“This is a little awkward,” Luke said, laughing nervously. “But I’m really glad you did. I had no idea how to approach you.”

Harry smiled, feeling relieved. “Should we go for dinner? I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Luke nodded. “Sounds great.”

“You can tell me about Chris,” Harry suggested as he got up from the sofa. “And why it’s so complicated getting him back.”

“I am warning you.” Luke fetched a jacket from the bedroom. “I didn’t talk to anyone about it yet, so I may be whining to you all night.”

Harry smiled, holding the door for Luke. “I’m a good listener.”

+++

He was an idiot. The biggest idiot on earth.

What had he thought coming here? What had he expected from coming to Harry’s house? An emotional, romantic reunion? A warm, loving welcome?

Louis shook his head, still angry with himself. He had flown across the ocean, ready to spill his guts to Harry -- not considering for a second that Harry was not there. So much for being spontaneous. Next time, when he’d feel like being spontaneous thing he’d go to Burger King instead of McDonald’s.

He could call Harry. Ask where he was and when he’d come back home. That would ruin his plan completely, though. Harry would know instantly that Louis hadn’t just come over because he wanted to spend a few more days in L.A. Of course he wouldn’t. There was nothing here in L.A. that would have made him stay longer than necessary.

Except for Harry. He was enough of a reason for Louis to want to spend more time in this godforsaken city.

Louis tried his last option when he rang Niall’s doorbell. It was likely that Harry was over here, spending the day helping Niall prepare for the big party tomorrow. Not that Niall needed any help -- he probably had a team that’d take care of every little detail.

 

“Lou!” Niall beamed when he opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

God, what was Louis doing here?

“I was around and thought I’d see what you’re up to.” Louis returned the firm hug Niall gave him. “Trying to catch you ahead of the big party tomorrow.”

“Great!” Niall led Louis inside, his feet bare and his hair dishevelled. “I’ve just made lunch. You hungry?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” Louis looked around the kitchen, seeing that Niall hadn’t just made eggs on toast. He had cooked a full, proper meal. “Do you always cook that much just for yourself?”

Niall grinned at him, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Babs is here,” Louis concluded.

“Sometimes, good things happen to good people, you know.” Niall got plates from a cupboard and filled them straight from the pots.

Shaking his head, Louis helped Niall carry the plates over to his living room. It wasn’t that he was surprised; he had seen this coming, after all. He had just thought it’d take a little longer.

“Louis.” Barbara sat up on the sofa when she spotted him. She was watching the Kardashians. “What are you doing here?”

The million dollar question.  “Thought I’d check in on Niall. Should I act surprised to see you here?”

Barbara grinned, winking at him. “I’ll spare you the trouble.”

Niall sat down next to Barbara and handed her a plate. “Are you gonna visit Harry, too?”

Louis tried to play down his nervousness and act casual. “If there’s time later.”

Barbara tore her eyes from the TV. “Harry?” she asked and frowned at Louis. “He’s not here.”

“He’s not? I thought his new job only started next week?” Niall raised a brow.

Louis decided that he fared best with Niall asking the important questions. That way, he didn’t have to embarrass himself by admitting that he had flown all the way from London, just to find out that Harry wasn’t even here.

“He’s in Canada.” Barbara tapped her fork against her lip. “He left on a whim yesterday.”

What the hell was Harry doing in Canada? Louis had to keep himself from saying it out loud.

“What’s he doing in Canada?” Niall asked.

She shrugged lightly, crossing her legs. “I don’t know, actually. He just texted me that he’d be back for the party.”

“Canada is fucking freezing right now.” Niall shivered from the thought, apparently.

The Kardashians ended and for a moment, all three of them watched the following advertisements while eating. Niall and Barbara got a little handsy, exchanging looks that were pretty distinct.

Louis had a million more questions, but he knew he’d give himself away if he asked them now. Was Harry in Canada for a job? Was he there privately? If so, why? What kind of business did he have in Canada. And why had he left so abruptly? Louis needed to know. Actually, he needed a bloody plane ticket to Canada now. He didn’t have time to sit here and eat. He needed to be on his way to Canada and see Harry.

He couldn’t wait another bloody day.

“I’ll get some more,” Niall said, cutting Louis’ thoughts short. “How about you?”

Barbara had emptied her plate, too. Only Louis had not even finished half of his portion.

Louis gestured at it. “I’m good, thanks.”

When Niall wanted to take Barbara’s plate, she shook her head. “I’ll go with you.”

Watching them leave the room, Louis raised a brow. He knew exactly what was about to go down in the kitchen. Those two were in that odd honeymoon stage where they couldn’t get enough of each other and couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Just like he and Harry had been a month ago when they had finally started sleeping with each other.

“... no other than Harry Styles.”

Louis looked at the TV, seeing a blurry picture of Harry entering a hotel. A celebrity gossip programme was on, and Louis put his plate on the table, frowning at the report.

“He was seen by some attentive fans when he arrived at the same hotel the _Beyond Gods_ cast is staying in,” a woman’s voice narrated. “There were rumours on Twitter that maybe Styles would make a special guest appearance on the show, but as it turned out he didn’t come to Canada for work.”

Louis’ heart dropped when they showed the next picture. Harry sat at a small table in a restaurant, head tilted close to Luke’s.

“Now, everyone had assumed that Styles had been dumped by Louis Tomlinson when they broke up recently, but this row of pictures makes us think it may have been the other way around, as they show him with actor Luke Connolly. He’s currently working on the set of _Beyond Gods_ in Canada, and it looks like Harry made the long way just for a date night. Ah, young love!”

They moved on to the next topic and Louis couldn’t stop staring at the screen. A million thoughts were running through his mind and he couldn’t hold onto a single one. Instead, he tried to focus on stopping his hands from shaking. His fingers felt numb and cold.

“I’m gonna drop my plate if you don’t stop.” Barbara came back into the living room, giggling and squirming away from Niall’s hand.

He sat down next to her again and laughed, but it died in his throat when he looked at Louis. “Are you all right, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Maybe he had. Maybe he had seen ghosts when he had looked at Harry in that magazine and had thought he’d looked miserable. Maybe he had wanted Harry to feel miserable, too, so Louis had a reason to come here and spill his guts to him.

Yet, Harry seemed to be doing completely fine. For him, everything had gone according to plan, and he was exactly where he wanted to be. Far away from Louis, and right where he belonged; in Luke’s arms.

Louis’ stomach turned and for a moment, he thought he was going to vomit. The images in his head wouldn’t stop and made him quietly whimper.

“Louis?” Barbara sounded alarmed.

“I’m good,” Louis said through gritted teeth. He got up from the armchair, his knees wobbly beneath his weight. “I gotta-- I just--”

Niall was by his side in an instant. “Mate, what is going on? Are you allergic to the food?”

Louis choked out a dry laugh. “No, love, your food is great.”

“We won’t let you leave like this.” Barbara forced Louis to sit down again, rubbing his cold fingers between her hands. “What’s going on, Louis?”

Defeated, Louis grabbed the remote control and rewinded the programme to the gossip news that had been on before. He silently let it play, and pressed his lips together when the photos were shown. It struck his heart again, shattering whatever had been left intact the first time he had seen them.

Niall groaned and turned it off before it was even finished. “That idiot.”

Barbara pressed her lips together. “He’s been in love with Luke for years, Niall.”

“I know that.” Niall turned to Louis, shrugging helplessly. “I honestly thought that had changed, though.”

Louis swallowed thickly, breaking their eye-contact. He had hoped so, too. Apparently, they’d both been wrong about it.

“Does he know?” Barbara asked, squeezing Louis’ hand.

Louis shook his head. “And he doesn’t need to.” He looked up at them. “I don’t want him to know.”

Niall nodded, and Louis focused on Barbara, waiting for her to nod her head, too. He really didn’t need those two meddling, now that they knew. He wouldn’t go through the embarrassment of Harry finding out and feeling pity for him.

“Are you staying with Liam?” Niall asked.

Louis shook his head. “I haven’t talked to him, actually. I don’t know if he’s in town.”

“He’ll come with Zayn tomorrow,” Niall said. “So I guess they should be here.”

Louis had neglected Liam. It had been a bit of a mutual neglect, since Louis had been so focused on Harry and Liam had used up all of his free time to be with Zayn. Louis didn’t even know how those two had arranged their relationship after Zayn had called it off once.

If Louis were a better friend, he’d have taken care of Liam -- he should make sure that Liam didn’t get hurt. Instead, he hadn’t even called Liam since they had last seen each other. All they had exchanged were Christmas and New Year’s greetings, like distant school friends who kept up a superficial, friendly connection.

“I’m staying at Lottie’s.” Louis rubbed his hands together. “She’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You can stay here if you want to,” Niall offered.

Louis snorted. “I don’t think I’d like to become a witness of that. Thank you.”

Niall threw an arm around Barbara’s shoulders. “The guest room’s on the other side of the house.”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “Don’t overestimate yourself, love.”

They started to bicker, both of them obviously enjoying it. Niall kept his hand in her nape and Barbara scooted a little closer to him. For a moment, jealousy burned hotly in Louis’ chest; jealousy for what they had and what he had hoped to have for himself.

At that very moment, Louis couldn’t imagine ever finding love with anyone else but Harry. Giving up on it seemed almost impossible, and he had no idea how he was supposed to do it. Yet, he had to find a way to get over his feelings.

Because Harry had found love with someone else.

+++

Harry was nervous when he reached Niall’s house. Paparazzi crowded the street, trying to get a good shot of every guest arriving. That’s why Harry had decided to come alone. He really didn’t want any more speculation about him and other people when he had come here tonight to give them something to talk about when he’d eventually leave with Louis.

At least Harry hoped so.

He had asked Luke to come, too. They had finished their shooting for the drama series the day before, so he was free anyway. Harry knew that Niall had invited Chris, and Harry wasn’t above playing fate for them. If Luke wanted to get Chris back, he needed opportunities to actually meet Chris.

Overall, Harry felt pretty good about himself. He was nervous, but in a good way, because he couldn’t wait to finally see Louis again. He’d get to touch Louis, and kiss him and if he wasn’t completely off his game, he’d hear Louis say everything Harry wanted to hear.

“Harry!” Niall greeted him at the door, holding out his arms. “You’re late.”

Harry hugged him briefly. “Sorry. Had to get dressed up for you.”

Niall snorted. “Your guest has already arrived.”

“Luke’s here?” Harry asked, looking past Niall.

“Yeah. Came about an hour ago.” Niall cleared his throat. “Are you two, like-- You know?”

Harry focused on Niall again. “No.”

“Not yet?” Niall asked.

“Not ever,” Harry said. He shrugged lightly. “I wanted to talk to him first. We’re good. Friends.”

Niall frowned. “You flew all the way to Canada to see him.”

“To clear things up,” Harry corrected him. “I wanted to do that in person. I owed him that, at least.”

For a moment, Niall was quiet. “Because of Louis?”

Harry felt his cheeks flush, but he nodded. “Because of Louis.”

“Mate.” Niall shook his head, releasing his breath. “This is--”

“Harry!” Barbara came over, throwing her arms around Harry’s neck. “There you are. What’s taken you so long?”

“Sorry, love.” Harry hugged her back.

“Come on, we’ll get you a drink.” Barbara took his hand and dragged him along into the living room.

“I’m actually starving,” Harry said. “I’d like to eat something first.”

Barbara pointed to the other side of the room. “That shouldn’t be a problem. There’s a buffet.”

Harry took that opportunity to check the room for familiar faces -- one in particular. He saw a lot of people he knew, a few of them already spotting him and waving or nodding to acknowledge him.

“He’s not here yet,” Niall said, appearing back at Harry’s side.

“But he’s coming?”

Niall nodded. “He said he would.”

Of course. Harry had nothing to be worried about. Louis only had to show up, and then Harry would win him over. He could do that. He had won Louis over before, now he only had to convince Louis that they could be more than friends with benefits.

Someone had come over, diverting Niall’s attention. Harry briefly squeezed his waist before he went over to the buffet. He took a plate and started piling up food, not leaving out a single thing.

Just when he had started eating, Luke found him, dragging him over into a corner. “You little shit.”

Harry grinned, licking some grease from his thumb. “I have no idea what you’re on about.”

“You invited me here because you knew that Chris would come, too.” Luke crossed his arms.

“Maybe.” Harry shrugged. “How is it going?”

Luke snagged a chicken wing from Harry’s plate. “Awkward.”

“You gotta make him jealous.” Harry held the plate between them, happy to share his food. “Find someone to dance with, or, I don’t know.”

“Share food with in a corner?” Luke asked, raising a brow.

Harry almost choked on a piece of his pizza bread. “I’d usually be happy to assist, but I’m not available tonight.”

Luke snorted. “You did notice he just arrived, right?”

“What?” Harry looked around, finding Louis on the other side of the room. He was alone, hand in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a black t-shirt and his hair was styled up in a quiff. He looked so, so good. Harry wanted to get his hands on him instantly.

Their eyes met just a second later, and for a moment, everything stopped for Harry. Louis quickly moved away, disappearing into the crowd of people.

“Go,” Luke urged him on. “Find him.”

Harry handed him his plate, nodding firmly. He made his way through the room, looking for Louis’ face. When Harry couldn’t find him in the living room, he went over to the kitchen. It seemed like Louis had been swallowed by the ground all of a sudden because he wasn’t there either.

He spotted Lottie, though, standing by the fridge and preparing drinks with Barbara.

“Hey,” Harry said, approaching them.

“Oh, Harry!” Lottie turned around, hugging him. “It’s nice to see you. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.” Harry nodded, watching Barbara get another glass.

A guy joined them. He had black hair and was a little taller than Harry. “I found lemons.”

“Harry, that’s Tommy,” Lottie introduced him. Harry remembered her talking about him on Christmas. “My boyfriend.”

“Hi.” Harry briefly shook his hand, then he turned to Lottie again. “Did you come with Louis?”

She nodded. “He should be around.”

“Here.” Barbara handed him a glass.

“Thanks.” Harry looked around the kitchen again, taking in every person in the room.

He was just turning around to the door when Louis came in. He spotted Harry and froze, stopping right there in his tracks.

“Louis,” Harry said, taking a step closer.

Without a word, Louis turned on his heels and left the kitchen again.

For a moment, Harry could only stare. He blinked once, twice, trying to make sense of what had just happened. With a frown on his face, he looked at Lottie.

“What’s going on?”

Lottie patted his back. “Drink up, love. You’ve got a rough night ahead.”

Harry tilted his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll figure it out.” Lottie raised her glass in a toast.

Harry huffed out a breath and gulped down his drink. He had thought he had it all figured out. Apparently, though, there was something he had missed, something he wasn’t aware of. Something that made Louis run from him.

Why was Louis running from him?

 _You’ll figure it out_ , it echoed in his head. If only people stopped telling him that.

+++

Louis had thought he could do it, he really had. He had been convinced that he was strong enough and that he was a good enough actor to pull it off. He’d been wrong, though, completely wrong.

The moment he had come into Niall’s house, he had immediately spotted Harry and Luke, sharing food from one plate, laughing and looking intimate with each other. Louis couldn’t have taken it. Not for a single second.

His jealousy was literally eating him up from inside.

“Lou.”

He turned around when he heard Liam’s voice and spotted him approaching Louis in long strides. Liam was in his space a second later, pulling him close. Louis closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Liam, feeling a little calmer already.

“Hey,” Liam said into the crook of Louis’ neck. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” Louis pulled back, keeping his hands on Liam’s arms. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

“No, I’ve been too busy myself.” Liam shook his head, eyes crinkling. “We’ve both been a bit shit with keeping in contact lately.”

Louis nodded. “Are you here with Zayn?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Liam shrugged. “You know. Not officially.”

Of course. Liam couldn’t be open about who he was dating. “But you two are good?”

“As good as you can be in a situation like that.” Liam sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“I bet it is.” Louis squeezed Liam’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” Liam smiled, pointing to the kitchen. “Should we get a drink?”

Louis cleared his throat. He wouldn’t go back into that kitchen for a million quid. “I’ll get food, you get drinks?”

“Deal.” Liam went off, and Louis gazed after him for a second.

As long as Liam was under his current label, he wouldn’t get to come out of the closet. It was taking its toll on him by now, that much was clear. Especially since that thing with Zayn seemed to be serious.

“Can I get everyone’s attention for a moment?” Niall’s voice echoed through the room. He stood on a box by the patio doors, next to the DJ set and had a microphone in one hand. Barbara stood next to him and he threw his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “If you could all gather in the living room, please.”

Louis turned around from the buffet, crossing his arms. He stumbled when the room filled up and someone tripped into him. There wasn’t enough space for all the people in the room. Someone bumped into him again and Louis lost his balance for a moment.

He knew who caught him before he even had a chance to turn around. Those fingers curling around his waist, that chest pressing against his back, the scent of fruity shampoo and expensive cologne were all too familiar.

Louis pulled back before he could get too used to it. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Harry reluctantly withdrew his hands, nodding briefly.

Niall started talking, making some kind of thank you speech. Louis tried to focus on it, but every cell of his body was drawn to Harry, and his warmth. The person on his other side scooted closer, making space to fit in someone else in the crowd and Louis was forced to lean closer into Harry.

Harry wound an arm around his middle and pulled Louis against his chest. His voice was low when he spoke, lips close to Louis’ ear.

“Hey,” he murmured. “What’s wrong?”

 _What was wrong_? Everything was wrong. Why did Harry even ask? For all he knew, Louis was fine. Why did he act like he knew exactly what was going on in Louis’ mind, like he understood Louis? Why did Harry act like he knew anything at all, when really, he knew nothing?  

Wasn’t that the whole problem? Harry knowing nothing about how Louis felt for him?

Louis closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Harry’s chest. Harry immediately kissed his hair, thumb gently rubbing over Louis’ hip. The gesture was calming, soothing, slowing Louis’ pulse down.

Whatever Niall had said animated the crowd to clap loudly. It was like a wake-up call for Louis. He took a step back and forced himself to shove Harry away. He couldn’t do it. He had thought he could, but he really couldn’t do this.

Not when Harry was so lovely to him. Couldn’t Harry just go and be with Luke and turn back into the pretentious arsehole Louis had seen in him when they had first met? That’d make everything easier.

“Lou,” Harry said, and he almost didn’t hear it over the loud noises of the crowd. He looked troubled, almost desperate. Louis hated that look on him, wanted to smooth out that furrow between his brows with his thumb and tell him that everything was okay. As long as Harry would stop looking so worried.

Louis was about to just spill everything right there and then, when he was distracted by a group of people behind Harry. He saw Liam making his way over with two glasses, squeezing through the crowd that was slowly clearing up. He was just metres away from Zayn who was currently leaning into some guy, letting him attach his lips to Zayn’s neck. Liam’s eyes landed on them the moment Zayn kissed the bloke, a heated snog evolving from it.

Louis didn’t believe his eyes, and when he checked on Liam again, he saw the hurt in his eyes. His stomach dropped like a stone, and the only thought on Louis’ mind was that he needed to get Liam out of here -- away from that sight.

“I gotta-- I need to go.” Louis squeezed past Harry without an explanation and grabbed Liam’s arm to pull him out of the room.

The glasses shattered on the floor when Liam dropped them, leaving a wet puddle. “What the fuck? Louis!”

Louis dragged Liam out of the living room and up a staircase, trying to get some privacy. Upstairs, he let go of Liam’s arm and stared him down.

“ _That’s_ how you two are _good_?” Louis almost spat out the words.

Liam rolled his eyes. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“Well, then let me know, because to me it looked like your boyfriend was snogging someone else.” Louis threw up his hands. “Right in front of you!”

“It’s okay, Louis,” Liam reminded him calmly.

How was he so calm about it? He didn’t even seem hurt. What the bloody hell was wrong with Liam? Louis couldn’t grasp it. “I’m sorry, but did I just watch your boyfriend snogging someone else or not? Because why am I the only person offended?”

“It’s not like it makes me happy to see it.” Liam crossed his arms, looking a little annoyed now.

“You should go and kick his arse on the court for doing that to you!”

Liam laughed bitterly. “I’m in the closet, Louis.”

“What? That gives him permission to treat you like that?” Louis shook his head. “Especially because you’re in the closet and can’t lay claim on him publicly, he should make sure you know he’s yours.”

“That’s not how it works, Louis.” Liam sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

“Has he done it before?” The thought almost made Louis drop to his knees. “Has he cheated on you before?”

Liam didn’t answer, and Louis felt like he was about to explode. No one, _no one_ on earth got to treat his best friend like shit.

“Why the bloody fuck are you even still with him?” Louis gestured behind his back to the stairs. “Why are you staying with him? Is he really worth it?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Liam shook his head again, the annoyed tone back in his voice.

“What is there to understand?” Louis asked. “Is the sex that good? Does he do it that well? Blow you every night? Fuck you so hard you can’t think straight anymore?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Now, Liam took a step closer to Louis. Apparently, Louis had hit a nerve there, because Liam looked furious. “I’m not gonna stand here and listen to that bullshit. What do you even know, Louis? You talk big, but you have no clue what it’s like.” Liam pointed at him. “You haven’t even slept with a man _one single time_. I’m not gonna take shit like that from a fucking virgin!”

Liam stormed past him, back to the stairs. His name died on Louis’ lips when he turned and wanted to hold Liam back. They were not alone anymore.

Harry stood there, on the last step, eyes wide and shock written all over his face.

===

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh noes, I'm leaving you with a cliffhanger. I'm so sorry! Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://greenfeelings.tumblr.com/), my inbox is open!


	11. Dearly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. It's the final chapter. Thank you so, so much to everyone who's been with me on this ride. Thank you if you read it as a WIP from the beginning, joined the journey in the middle, or read it as a whole now that it's finished. I loved writing this fic, and I'm so, so happy for all the encouragement and love I receided while writing. 
> 
> All my love to Andy and Addy for beta'ing this work. You two helped make this a better story, and I'm convinced it wouldn't be any good if it weren't for you catching all my mistakes. Thank you for taking your time <3 
> 
> Also, P. Thank you for being my cheerleader. This was your idea, and you know I've written it for you. A Fake Boyfriend AU after your taste! <333 
> 
> Without further ado, 
> 
> Enjoy the read <3

 

Louis’ heart skipped a beat, and then another one, and for a moment, he was sure it wasn’t going to beat again. It had to, though, because he was still standing in his spot, still staring at Harry. He hadn’t dropped dead yet. 

Although he really wished he would. 

Liam was looking back and forth between them, apparently not aware of what he’d just done. Not that he could know. How could he? Louis hadn’t told him about his relationship with Harry. When he’d had the chance, Louis had decided to lie about it instead. 

And where had that led him? 

Harry blinked once, and his face fell, the expression of shock turning into one of hurt. “Please tell me that’s not true.” 

The words came out rough, just above a whisper, but they echoed loudly between them. 

“Oh fuck, Louis, you didn’t,” Liam gasped, obviously catching on. 

“You.” Louis pointed at Liam, anger welling up inside of him. “You’ve said enough for the rest of eternity. Shut it.” 

Harry exhaled shakily, then he turned around and dashed down the stairs. Louis stared after him, every fibre of his body itching and screaming to follow Harry. 

“You slept with Harry?” Liam’s voice was high. 

“Shut up, Liam.” Louis ran a hands through his hair. “We’re not done yet, okay? But I gotta--” 

Liam gestured to the stairs. “Why are you still standing here?” 

That was a good question. Louis almost flew down the stairs, turning at the bottom to check where Harry could’ve gone. He doubted that Harry had left through the front door with the paparazzi still waiting outside. 

Louis tried not to look suspicious when he entered the living room. He knew that Harry wouldn’t want to be amongst people now. He’d look for a place to be alone, to collect himself. That meant he was either outside in the garden or in a room that wasn’t used for the party. 

Louis spotted Niall coming from the other side of the living room, taking a glass from someone. He gulped it down in one go, his brows furrowed together. Louis didn’t need to ask him -- that was all he needed to know.

He went in the direction Niall had come from and opened the door to the first room he spotted. It appeared to be a bedroom, and Harry was pacing it. He stopped when he saw Louis, brows furrowed and lips a thin line. 

“Listen, L.A.,” Louis started as he closed the door behind himself. 

“Don’t L.A. me.” Harry crossed his arms. “Is it true? What Liam said.” 

Louis didn’t want to have this conversation. There was a reason he hadn’t told Harry -- and now that he stood in front of him, Louis remembered what it had been. “Not exactly.” 

“How exactly?” Harry asked, his voice not giving away a single emotion. It was like the man who had stared at Louis from the last step of the stairs had been replaced by a harder, colder version of him. 

“I’m not a virgin,” Louis said. Even to his ears that sounded like a lie. It wasn’t, though. 

Harry waited for a beat, probably expecting more, too. “Not anymore.” 

Louis laughed humourlessly. “Well, you would know.” 

“That’s  _ not _ funny.” Harry turned around, starting to pace the room again. “You lied to me.” 

“I didn’t lie,” Louis corrected him. “I just didn't mention a few things. And I wasn’t a virgin.” 

Harry briefly glanced at him. “You’re saying that now, but it’s not true.” 

Closing his eyes, Louis prepared to spill his guts to Harry. “I’ve slept with a few momen. Two, if you must know.” 

“But you hadn’t slept with a man.” Harry stopped his pacing, staring at the wall. “You had no experience with another man.” 

Louis frowned, feeling put on the spot. He had no idea why Harry was that concerned with the whole topic. After all, when they had started sleeping with each other, there really had been no basis to bring it up. Louis had no idea why it played such a huge role for Harry. 

“I hadn’t slept with a man before, no.” It took all of Louis’ willpower to get those words out. To admit that in front of Harry. 

Harry’s breath hitched when he inhaled, and he ran a hand over his face. “God. The things I did with you.” 

“I was there, Harry.” Louis took a tentative step closer. “I wanted it.” 

Harry didn’t even seem to hear him. “The things I made you do.” 

“Harry.” Louis grabbed his arm, making Harry look at him. “It’s not like you forced me.” 

“You said no.” Harry was pale, and his eyes were wide, looking almost scared. “You said no, and I came back and forced myself onto you.” 

“I didn’t say no.” Louis frowned, trying to remember what Harry was referencing. 

Harry shook his head. “You turned me down in the lift. You told me you didn’t want it.” 

“Because I was too proud.” Louis had no idea how to make Harry see that nothing of what had happened between them had hurt Louis. Harry seemed like he was caught in some alternate universe where their sex hadn’t been consensual. It was ridiculous. “I was too proud to give in, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to sleep with you.” 

Pulling his arm from Louis’ grip, Harry ran both hands through his short hair. “You should’ve waited for someone who’s worth it. You’d waited, right? And then I just took it away.” 

“I wanted you to.” Louis weighed his words carefully. “I wouldn’t have slept with you again and again if I hadn’t wanted it. I trusted you.” 

“But not enough to be honest with me.” Harry’s voice sounded dull when he said it. He looked drained and tired. 

“Harry--” 

“You cried. On your birthday.” Harry inhaled shakily, eyes landing on Louis. “Did I hurt you?” 

“You never did.” Louis tried getting closer again. He just needed Harry to listen to him, to  _ understand _ . “I wanted every single bit of it, okay?” 

“Maybe I didn’t.” Harry swallowed, taking a step back again. “Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted it if I’d known.” 

That ripped right into Louis’ chest. Harry had been careful and loving and open with Louis each time they had slept with each other. He had given Louis space to explore himself, and he had been there for every high, and had caught Louis on every low. Louis had shamelessly used him. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis murmured, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself. “I missed the right time to tell you. And then I didn’t know how to.” 

Harry was silent for a while. The room was only filled by their quiet breathing, the noises from the living room a dull beat through the walls. 

“Did you think I’d make fun of you?” 

Louis closed his eyes and shook his head. “I trusted you.” He didn’t know what else to say. 

“I trusted you, too.” Harry took another step back. “You know. I really did. I thought--” He stopped, and when Louis looked up at him, his shoulders sagged. “I thought we could be more.” 

Louis felt the blood freeze in his veins. 

“I thought I could convince you we could be something serious.” Harry shrugged, pressing his lips together. “But I guess I already got it wrong at the basics.” 

For a moment, Louis could only stare at him. Had Harry really said that just now? “What about Luke?” It was the first thing that came to his mind. 

“He’s not who I want to be with.” Harry shrugged. “Not anymore.” 

“But you--” Louis shook his head, not sure he was able to follow. “I saw the pictures. In Canada. You flew over to see him.” 

Harry frowned. “What pictures?” 

“Of your date.” The thought had hurt Louis when he had found out. The words cut even more when he said them out loud. 

“I went to Canada to let him down, actually.” Harry laughed, but it sounded sad more than amused. “I flew there to let him know I couldn’t be with him, because I wanted to be with you.” 

Louis wanted to run, and at the same time, he wanted to throw himself at Harry. He couldn’t breathe properly because he had thought he had lost Harry, and he had accepted it already, but now Harry was here, and he wanted Louis. 

Was terribly disappointed by Louis. 

“Maybe I saw more in this than you did.” Harry shrugged, looking genuinely clueless. He moved, walked past Louis. “Sorry.” 

“Harry.” Louis grew desperate. It was too much, and he had no idea how to handle it. This conversation had taken a turn he could have never predicted. 

“I guess I can’t do this right now.” Harry shook his head, opening the door. 

Louis’ feet moved on their own and he was at the door within seconds. “You can’t just go like that.” 

“I’d rather not be around you right now, Louis.” Harry didn’t even turn before he left the room. “I really don’t know what to think.” 

That made two of them. Louis had no idea what to think either -- mainly, though, because he was feeling too much. His heart ached and his fingers were cold, his lips numb. He started shaking, his knees feeling too wobbly to hold his weight. 

How was he supposed to think when all he could do was feel?

Harry disappeared into the crowd and Louis stared after him, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. Him and Harry had been on the same page, and at the same time, they hadn’t been on the same page at all. Louis couldn’t believe that Harry had let Luke down just to be with him instead; that he hadn’t said anything about that before. If he had, it would have never come to this. 

It wasn’t only on Harry, though. Of course it was just as much Louis’ fault. He’d had all the opportunities in the world to tell Harry about his feelings. If he had done that, they would have never had ended up like this either. 

Harry was probably right. He didn’t know what to think. So if he followed Harry now, what good would come of it? If Louis didn’t even know what to think, he’d never know what to say, either. He wouldn’t find the right words, would probably just mess this up even more.

If there even was something left to mess up. 

He closed the door again, deciding that what he needed right now was a moment to himself. Then he’d go back out there and get drunk off his mind. 

+++

Harry woke up when someone rang his doorbell. He groaned and rolled over, pulling a pillow over his head. Finding sleep had been so hard, and now that he had finally fallen asleep long after sunrise, someone had the audacity to ring him out of bed. 

For a moment, he considered ignoring it, then he thought that maybe -- just maybe -- it was Louis. Harry had lain awake all night, hoping that Louis would show up and say that he felt the same, that he was sorry, that he wanted Harry, too. 

The realisation just how much of a fool he really was had left Harry with a dull feeling in his stomach. He should’ve never had hopes for them to become anything more than they had been. For Louis, it had been in good fun, maybe some kind of convenient situation to practise for when he’d meet someone he wanted to stay with permanently. 

Harry had simply been a fling, after all. 

The doorbell reminded him of what had really woken him up, and that small glimmer of hope that Louis could be at the door made Harry get up. He put on a pair of boxershorts and a t-shirt and ran a hand through his hair. 

“You are the biggest idiot on earth,” Niall said and stormed into the house as soon as the door was open. 

Harry ignored the pang of disappointment in his chest. “That’s not news.” 

“I’d have done something about it last night but you were gone so suddenly.” Niall crossed his arms, checking Harry from head to toe. 

“I didn’t really feel like staying.” Harry closed the door. 

“Well, your luck. Or else you could’ve watched Louis drinking himself into oblivion.” 

Harry blinked at him, not sure how to reply. 

“Come on, champ.” Niall turned and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make you breakfast.” 

That was an offer Harry would never refuse. Niall made the best breakfast on earth. Harry followed, watching Niall roam the fridge and decided to stay silent and wait for Niall to spill whatever reason he had come for. 

“You know,” Niall continued, just like Harry had expected. “When you came to me and said you needed a place to be alone, I thought you had to make a call, or that something was wrong with your family. He’ll tell you, I thought, and left you some space. And then, all of a sudden, you were gone without saying a word.” 

Harry pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry.” 

“As soon as I noticed, I wanted to call, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out why you had left.” Niall turned on the cooker and threw a good chunk of butter into a pan. “Louis had emptied my whole vodka stash within an hour.” He glanced over his shoulder before he poured the eggs he had whisked together into the pan. “He was a complete mess.” 

Staying mum, Harry looked at his hands in his lap. So their conversation hadn’t left Louis completely unbothered. 

“He made a scene with Zayn, actually.” Niall turned, crossing his arms. “Which is the only thing I haven’t got an explanation for.” 

“Zayn cheated on Liam, apparently.” Harry shrugged. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to tell, but this was Niall, and he was the trustworthiest person Harry knew. “Louis caught him in the act.” 

“That goes with what he spat at Zayn.” Niall took a knife, starting to cut the bacon. “I’ve got an idea about why he got that drunk, but I really don’t know why on earth you two didn’t get your shit together.” He glanced at Harry again, and when he didn’t say anything, Niall resumed, “I mean, you both want the same, don’t you?” 

And that was where Niall got it wrong. “We don’t.” 

“But you told me last night you wanted to be with him?” Niall added bacon and tomatoes to the pan. “What’s changed there?” 

“Nothing.” Harry took a deep breath. “He doesn’t want me back, though.” 

Niall lowered the knife, staring at Harry with raised brows. “What?” 

“Don’t make me repeat it.” Harry tried a laugh, but it sounded nothing but bitter. “It’s humiliating enough to say it once.” 

“Are you shitting me?” Niall turned to him fully now. “He was devastated over those pictures of you and Luke.” 

Harry frowned. He remembered Louis talking about those pictures, too. “What pictures?” 

“He actually came to me the day before the party. Babs was watching the telly. There was a report on some gossip news about you and Luke. About you flying all the way to Canada to be with him. They showed pictures of you two on a date.” 

“We simply had dinner together.” Harry felt panic crawl up his chest. “All of us know that what these gossip news programmes air is complete rubbish.” 

Niall took the pan from the cooker. “Harry. Seriously.” He waited, and Harry looked up from the floor, finding Niall’s gaze. “You guys are sleeping with each other. Your contract ends and neither of you makes a move to keep whatever you had intact. He comes to L.A. to see you and fix it, and what he gets instead is reports of you flying to Canada to see the guy you’ve been in love with for years the first week of January. There are pictures of you and Luke out in a restaurant. Just the both of you, looking intimate and close.” Niall tilted his head. “What was he supposed to think?” 

“I’m surprised he cared.” Harry watched Niall shovel the food from the pan onto two plates. “When he left after Christmas, he wished me good luck with Luke.” 

“Because he thought he didn’t stand a chance.” Niall rolled his eyes and sat down across from Harry at the table. “You didn’t really make it look like you were up for a relationship with anyone else but Luke, did you?” 

“He didn’t say anything, either.” Harry knew he sounded like a toddler.

“You sound like a toddler,” Niall said, confirming Harry’s suspicion. “Don’t be thick, Harry. You know it’s not his fault.” 

Harry nodded, poking at his food with his fork. “Okay. I get that. He got the wrong impression, and he didn’t have a chance not to.” 

Niall watched him with a frown. “Why are you still not sounding convinced?” 

“Because that’s not exactly the issue,” Harry replied. 

“What exactly is the issue?” 

Harry pondered telling Niall. After all, it was a sensitive matter, and nothing Louis would want to spread. He hadn’t been confident enough to tell Harry, so it was likely he wouldn’t want anyone else to know. 

“You need to promise me that you won’t tell this to anyone.” Harry put down his fork. He couldn’t eat with his stomach in knots. 

Niall raised his brows. “If you’re gonna tell me he’s a mass murderer, I’m not sure I can keep it quiet.” 

“Niall,” Harry urged him on. 

“Yeah, okay.” Niall nodded, putting his fork down as well. Apparently, he had grasped now that this was serious. “I promise it’ll stay between us.” 

“Okay.” Harry forced himself to keep his eyes on Niall’s face. “I caught Liam and Louis in a heated fight last night.” 

“About Zayn,” Niall concluded. 

Harry nodded. “It was about Zayn, yeah. Louis was mad that Liam let Zayn treat him like that.” 

“As he should be, if it’s true.” 

“I didn’t know what it would be about. I just followed Louis because he kept running away from me.” Harry shook his head. “I found them upstairs, and the moment I realised they were fighting and that it was a private conversation, Liam said something that--” He swallowed thickly. 

“What, Harry?” Niall asked, concern thick in in his voice. 

Taking a moment, Harry replayed the memory in his head. “He said to Louis that he wouldn’t take shit from someone who hadn’t ever slept with a man. From a virgin.” 

Niall gasped. “Louis’s a virgin?” 

“Well,” Harry murmured, remembering Louis’ words. “Not anymore.” 

For a while, Niall simply stared at him. “So you’re telling me what exactly here? How does that mean you two can’t be together?” 

“He didn’t tell me.” Harry made a helpless gesture with his hands. 

“You told me that what you had was simply a loose agreement. No strings attached.” Niall frowned. “Friends with benefits.” 

“I wouldn’t have slept with him, had I known.” Harry tried to ignore the feeling of panic crawling up his chest. 

“It’s not exactly what you tell someone you occasionally shag, though, right?” Niall sighed. “Listen, Haz. I get you. You’d have liked to know because you love him, and you wish his first time would’ve been special.” 

Harry’s panic level rose up to that stage where his heart was beating in his throat, his lungs felt like stuffed and his mouth went dry.  _ Love _ , Niall was talking about love as if it was completely obvious and as if everyone in the room had already figured it out. 

It seemed as though only one of the two people in this room had anything figured out.

Niall raised his brows. “What?” 

“You just assumed I was in love with Louis.” Harry swallowed thickly, shifting on his chair.

“Am I wrong?” Niall asked. 

“I don’t know, Niall.” Harry got up, unable to sit still. “What would you say if I accused you of having played around for the past two years, because you were just waiting for Barbara to finally give in? That you’ve loved her all along?” 

Niall shrugged. “I’d say you hit the nail on the head.” 

Harry turned to him, stopping his pacing. “What?” 

“Well, you’re obviously right, because she’s the one for me.” Niall resumed eating his breakfast. “Just like Louis is obviously the one for you.” 

“Why would you think that?” Harry tugged at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. 

“If he was just a fling, you wouldn’t be so stressed about being his first.” 

Harry frowned. “That’s nothing I’d take lightly with anyone.” 

“No, you wouldn’t.” Niall leaned back in his chair, watching Harry with calm eyes. “Ask yourself this, though. If you weren’t in love with him, would it bother you so much? Why is it important to you in the first place? He’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions. He decided to sleep with you despite not having slept with another man before. You didn’t do anything he didn’t want -- it was completely consensual.” 

Biting his lip, Harry held Niall’s gaze, knowing where this was going. He knew that Niall had figured this out so much sooner than Harry had. 

Niall tilted his head. “The only reason you’re so bothered is that you couldn’t make it a special thing. And you only make first times a special thing if your partner is more to you than a fling.” 

Sighing, Harry started his pacing again. 

+++

Louis woke up from his head threatening to explode. It was pulsing rhythmically, a dull pain behind his forehead thrumming along. His mouth tasted like something had died in there and his back hurt from how cramped up he had been while sleeping. 

“Look who’s up.” 

Louis wanted to open his eyes, but the simple attempt hurt, so he gave up on it. The voice was familiar, and Louis wondered where exactly he even was. He couldn’t remember anything after Harry leaving. Everything was a blur.

“Come on,” that voice said, and someone touched Louis’ shoulder. “You gotta take a painkiller.” 

Louis forced himself to open his eyes and spotted Zayn looming over him. He held a glass of water and had the other hand extended, a white pill in his palm. Louis immediately forgot his headache and sat up, glaring at him.

“What are you doing here?” 

Zayn raised a brow, putting both, the pill and the glass on the table. “I kinda live here.” 

Louis looked around, recognising Liam’s living room. “Not for much longer.” 

“As if it was up to you to decide.” Zayn smiled wearily and turned on the TV. 

“Where is Liam?” Louis asked, ignoring Zayn’s reply. 

“Making breakfast.” 

As if on cue, Liam came in, carrying two plates. He sat down next to Zayn and handed him one of the plates, looking at Louis. “Look who’s up,” he said as he draped his legs over Zayn’s lap. “You want some Cornflakes?” 

Louis’ stomach turned at the thought of eating. He shook his head and was rewarded with a hammering pain behind his temples. Wordlessly, he took the pill and gulped down the water. Liam watched him, looking slightly concerned; the way he always did when Louis wasn’t feeling well. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Louis asked. 

“Well, you acted like a dick last night and got completely sloshed.” Liam spoke with his mouth full, eyes darting to the TV every now and then. “I took you home, though, because I wasn’t innocent in all of that.” 

Louis closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will the pulsing pain in his head away. It felt like his skull was going to break open any moment. Those were not the best conditions to hold a conversation like this, but it seemed like he didn’t have much of a choice. 

“Do you remember anything at all?” Zayn asked. 

Shrugging, Louis kept his eyes on the duvet covering his lap. “I definitely didn’t forget you cheating on Liam right there in front of us.” 

“Yep, you reminded us several times last night. And with the way you screamed at him before we left, everyone believes you two actually got something going on.” Liam put his plate down, falling silent. 

When he didn’t resume speaking, Louis looked up and found Liam and Zayn already looking at him. 

“It’s partly my fault that you don’t know.” Liam sighed, shrugging helplessly. “We just haven’t had time to properly talk recently, so you missed out on this whole thing with Zayn. You couldn’t know what was going on.” 

Louis frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I can’t come out anytime soon.” Liam glanced at Zayn, taking his hand. “We’ve got to stay absolutely private. None of this can be made public, or else my contract is screwed.” 

“That doesn’t give him the right to go kiss whoever he wants.” Louis shook his head. “Especially not under such circumstances.” 

“And that’s not what’s happening here.” Zayn muted the TV. “It’s just the easiest way to keep up the pretence. Evan is a friend, and he didn’t mind helping us out. That kiss landed on someone’s Snapchat, people will see it, and they’ll stop asking questions.” 

“We’ve been a little too careless recently,” Liam added. “So people, especially my fans, started catching up on it.” 

Louis wasn’t sure he was following. “So you decided the best solution for this was to have Zayn snog other people in public?”

“That’s easier for us than me getting a beard.” Liam bit his lip briefly. “I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.” 

“But--” Louis collected his thoughts, trying to come up with the right words. “Doesn’t that make it harder for you? Only ever having each other here, when you’re in private?” 

“That’s the only place where it matters.” Zayn leaned a little closer to Liam, and Louis saw him rub his thumb soothingly over the back of Liam’s hand. “We can be ourselves around each other. I don’t have to pretend when I’m with Liam. It’s easy, and comfortable. Out there, no matter where we go or what we do, we always have to play a role anyway.” 

Liam hummed. “I don’t need to to lay claim, you know?” He laughed dryly. “Of course it’d be nice to have people know, but it’s not the most important part. We’re good like this. We’ve got each other, and we want the same thing. We’re figuring this out together. That’s what it’s all about, being in a relationship, isn’t it?” 

Louis thought of the conversation he’d had with Harry what felt like ages ago. Harry had asked him back then who it was Louis wanted to be. He hadn’t known then, had been content to pick from one of the million dreams people had painted him in. 

Now he understood what they were saying, though; fully grasped what it really meant. And that it was something Harry had understood so much sooner than Louis. There was a place, far away from where anyone was watching, secured behind the walls of a home, where Louis could be himself. Where he wasn’t any of those dreams, none of the roles. 

A place where he was with Harry, and could be himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis mumbled, his head still pounding, but he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with his hangover anymore. “I jumped the gun, and didn’t even listen when you tried to explain.” 

Liam shook his head, letting go of Zayn to move over to Louis. It felt good, familiar when Liam took his hand. “I guess I fucked up myself. I got so mad, I said things I shouldn’t have said.” 

“I pushed you to say them.”

“No, Louis.” Liam squeezed his hand. “Whatever you said, me using your lack of experience against you wasn’t fair. That doesn’t have anything to do with you being in a position to be concerned about my decisions. From your perspective, it was completely understandable. I shouldn’t have reduced you to that lack of experience.” 

Biting his lip, Louis glanced at Zayn. It probably didn’t matter if he heard it; Liam was going to tell him anyway. “You weren’t the only one.” 

Liam sighed, tugging Louis a little closer. “You told me you weren’t interested in him.” 

“I couldn’t possibly tell you about it.” Louis swallowed thickly. “Remember when we were at your concert in Australia and I told you there was no way I’d sleep with him?” 

Nodding, Liam raised a brow. 

“I went and slept with him that very night.” 

Liam laughed, and Zayn chuckled as well. He was back to eating his breakfast, but still listened to them, not a single bit of surprise colouring his expression. Liam had probably told him everything already. 

“You said you didn’t when I asked you at the football game.” Liam poked Louis’ side. “You lied to me.” 

“I thought it’d make me look pathetic.” Louis swallowed thickly. “And then you went on about how it important it is to wait for the right one. How could I tell you then that I slept with the next best guy available?” 

For a moment, Liam was silent. “But that’s not what it really was, is it?” 

“I thought that it was just that. Nothing but sex.” Louis shook his head. “It wasn’t.” 

“Judging from how shocked he looked, it wasn’t just a fling to him, either.” Liam tilted his head. 

“Apparently not.” Louis swallowed, remembering Harry’s words. “I think I fucked up there.” 

Liam sighed. “Technically, I’m the one who’s fucked that up for you.” 

Louis shrugged. “I thought it didn’t matter, because he had this deal with Luke Connolly.” Inhaling, Louis prepared to say the words out loud. “Harry’s been in love with him for ages. I thought he wasn’t interested in me like that.” 

“Turns out, he lost interest in Luke?” Liam asked. 

Louis nodded. “But now he’s mad at me for keeping it from him. He said he wouldn’t have slept with me if he had known.” 

“He was angry,” Liam said, sounding sympathetic. “And hurt. Which only proves that you mean something to him.” 

“I’m not sure how to fix this.” Louis sighed. “I have no idea where he stands now.” 

“You should talk to him again.” Liam patted his arm lightly. “I’m sure he wants to fix this as much as you do.” 

Louis wasn’t so sure about that. He knew, though, that the only way to find out was by talking to Harry. And he better did it sooner rather than later. 

“You know--”

Liam was cut off when Louis’ mobile rang. He grabbed it from the table and handed it to Louis. 

“Stan?” Louis answered, frowning slightly. 

“Where the hell are you?” Stan almost screamed it down the line. “The casting starts in twenty minutes and you’re not here.” 

“Oh fuck.” Louis had forgotten about it. With everything going on, it had completely slipped his mind. He threw the duvet off and stumbled off the sofa. “I’m on my way.” 

“You better be.” Stan hang up without another word.

“I forgot about my casting.” Louis turned around, looking at Zayn and Liam. “I completely forgot.” 

“Go shower,” Zayn said, gesturing for him to hurry. 

“I’ll call a driver.” Liam was already dialling. 

Louis was fucked, just completely fucked. In every aspect of his life. 

+++

Dead on his feet, he arrived back at Liam’s when it was past midnight. Louis had spent the afternoon at the casting, then Stan had sat him down for a briefing of the upcoming months. It had dragged on with him giving Louis another talk to for his lack of concentration and how badly he’d done in the casting. After that, Stan had taken him out to a dinner with an author who was going to write a book about Louis. 

As if there was anything to tell about him. Stan was convinced, though, that it was just the right time to publish a first book about Louis’ career. He talked like there were more to follow. 

Louis couldn’t exactly bring himself to care, though. He knew it was about his career, and that he should show more ambition. Like this, however, his mind was completely occupied with Harry. Where was he now? What was he doing? Was he okay? Did he think about Louis, too? Was he still angry? 

If they were looking for a broody, gloomy crabber, Louis would probably sack that role. 

Liam and Zayn weren’t home anymore. There was a note in the kitchen, Liam’s handwriting scrawled over the yellow paper. 

_ Staying at Zayn’s tonight because it’s closer to the studio. You can stay as long as you want, as always. Give me a call sometime, yeah? I’ll text you tomorrow xx _

Louis sighed, sitting down on one of the stools at the counter. He buried his face in his hands, trying to shut it all out for a moment. As expected, it didn’t work. His shoulders still felt loaded, and his heart heavy in his chest. He just wanted to crawl into bed and forget all of it. Sleep for an eternity. 

Looking around the kitchen, Louis felt more empty than ever before. 

He didn’t know what was inside those drawers, or which cupboard he’d have to open to find a mug. There wasn’t even a mug in here that was his, or one he preferred over the others, like the one at his mum’s house that he had his sisters prohibited from using. His mum was allowed to take it sometimes, but she was the only one. 

He knew his way around this house, but he used everything with caution, never messed anything up. When he sat on the sofa in the living room, he’d always arrange the cushions afterwards, making sure everything looked as neat as before. The way Liam liked it. 

This was Liam’s home, and now, it slowly became Zayn’s, too. They belonged here, and they belonged together. There were things scattered around the house Louis had never seen before. A comic book in the living room, drawing utensils in the kitchen, a pair of glasses in the foyer. They were things Zayn had placed here in the short span of time he had been here. There was nothing Louis had ever left outside of the guestroom. 

Louis was a guest in this house. Just like he was a guest in Lottie’s apartment. 

He had been a guest in Harry’s house, too. There was no denying that. Yet, when they had shared a bed, and when Harry had made breakfast for Louis, when they had snuggled up on the sofa together, when they had sat by the pool, telling each other anything and everything, he had never felt like a guest. When his family had spent Christmas at Harry’s house, it hadn’t felt like it wasn’t where they belonged for a single second. 

Harry had made Louis feel at home. 

Looking around the dimly lit kitchen, Louis wondered what he was even doing here. He had come back to this place thinking there was no other option for him, and he had done so for years. But he had been wrong. 

This house was not home. 

+++

“I’m at the hotel now, yes.” Harry unlocked the door to his room, his mobile held between his ear and shoulder. “It’s good, yeah. You wouldn’t expect a hotel like this in the middle of nowhere.” 

Anne laughed. “Do you have any company? Or are you alone all the time?” 

Harry closed the door behind himself. “We’re going out for dinner tomorrow night. Right now, all of us are still a little jetlagged.” 

“Understandable.” Anne was quiet for a moment. “Have you talked to Luke?” 

“Um.” Harry tried to come up with a lie. He closed his eyes, judging himself for even thinking about lying to his mother. “No. I haven’t.” 

“Good.” Anne sighed happily. “Have you talked to Louis?” 

Harry almost dropped the phone. “What?” 

“Oh, come on, Harry.” He could hear her roll her eyes. “It’s been almost three weeks since Christmas. You two should’ve figured it by now.” 

“Figured what?” 

“It was glaringly obvious that you two had something going on,” Anne said. “And that he’s a much better match for you than Luke.” 

Harry tried to focus on breathing evenly. “You think so?” 

“Absolutely.” Anne was quiet for a moment. “So why haven’t I heard yet that you two are a deal?” 

“Guess because we’re not.” Harry sat down on the bed. “It’s complicated.” 

“It always is,” Anne said. “It’s never easy, love. But is it worth it? Is he worth the hassle?” 

Harry laughed dryly. “You got to know him.” 

“Yeah. He’s worth it, isn’t he?” Anne hummed. 

“I’m stuck here.” Harry fell to his back, staring at ceiling. “We’ll film here for a whole month. And the location has to stay secret.” 

“Then you’ve got a month to think about how to win him over.” 

Win him over, Harry repeated in his head. He had to win Louis back. After all, he had been the one to run away from their conversation last time. He had been the one too scared to face Louis since then. 

Yet, Louis hadn’t tried to contact Harry in any way either. What if he was done? What if Harry had been too harsh that night? What if Louis had already moved on? 

“Or, you know,” Anne went on. “You could just call him.” 

Harry blinked, the words sinking in. “I could do that.” 

“Strange concept, I know.” Anne snorted. 

When they hung up later, Harry’s eyelids felt like weights were dragging them down. He rolled over onto his side, curling up and pondering just going to sleep like that. His mind was occupied with the thought of calling Louis, though. 

It was irrational, completely irrational, but he felt like hearing Louis’ voice would make sleep come easier. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, or how he should say any of what he had on his mind. Hearing Louis’ voice seemed like the only thing that could make him feel whole now. 

Before Harry had even realised it, he had dialled Louis’ number. He closed his eyes, listening to the ringing. There was a click, and then Louis’ voice: “Hi! Sorry I’m either not available right now, or don’t wanna talk to you. You probably know which one applies to you. Leave a message after the tone.” 

Harry hung up, releasing a bitter laugh. God, what was that message? Had Louis known Harry was going to call eventually? Had he spitefully recorded that message to let Harry know that he was on Louis’ blacklist now? 

He got up from the bed and stripped out of his clothes. Putting on a pair of boxershorts and a worn-out t-shirt, he got ready for bed. They’d start filming later tomorrow, which would give him a few extra hours of sleep. Harry would need them. 

Crawling into bed, Harry checked his mobile again. There were no messages, no calls. He scrolled aimlessly through his contacts, then he closed all applications. His display showed the time for his location, next to the time in L.A. 

Maybe Louis was asleep right now. It was early morning in L.A., after all.

Harry unmuted his phone, just in case, before he put it on the night stand. For a while, he lay awake, hoping for his phone to start ringing, for Louis to call him back. It remained silent, though. And while he was waiting, Harry fell asleep. 

+++

He was woken up what felt like only minutes later by a harsh knocking on his door. Groaning, Harry rolled over, grabbing his phone to check the time. He had slept seven hours, apparently, and in the meantime, no one had called. 

The knocking was repeated and Harry forced himself to get out of bed and answer it. He wondered what it was about. They had agreed on meeting at nine for breakfast before they’d have to be in make-up at ten. Why were they throwing him out of bed thirty minutes early, then?

He ran a hand through his hair, opening the door, and froze when he spotted Louis on the other side. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Louis seemed out of breath. His cheeks were flushed and his hair mussed up. He wore a heavy-looking coat over jogging bottoms and a soft-knitted jumper. He had nothing else on him. 

Slowly, Harry lowered his arm, not sure he was just dreaming this after all. 

“You called,” Louis said after what felt like an eternity. 

Harry nodded dumbly. “I thought you’d call back.” 

Louis fidgeted the hem of his coat, lowering his gaze. “I was already on the plane.” 

“Where to?” Harry asked. 

“Here.” Louis looked up again, meeting Harry’s eyes. “To you.” 

Harry let go of the door and it only took two strides, then he was in Louis’ space. He crashed right into Louis, his arms winding around Louis’ neck, lips pressing against Louis’ hair. Louis wound his arms around Harry’s middle, fingers curling into the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt. He was cold, his skin freezing, but Harry didn’t mind sharing his warmth. 

Louis nuzzled his face against Harry’s neck, breath hitching quietly. It felt secure, like slotting into place, like coming home after being away for months. 

“Come on,” Harry murmured, maneuvering them inside the room. He kicked the door closed with his foot. 

“Sorry for waking you up so early,” Louis said as he drew back. 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t mind.” 

“I know I shouldn’t be here.” Louis detached himself from Harry, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. 

“How did you even find me?” Harry crossed his arms to keep himself from reaching out again. “Our film location is top secret.” 

Shrugging, Louis’ gaze landed somewhere right of Harry. “I couldn’t find you in L.A. or London, so I asked Niall. He said Barbara was in Norway, and the rest was me having to beg her to give me your hotel room number.” 

Harry stared at him for a moment. Louis had come all the way to the ends of the world in Norway to see him. Or had he? Frowning, Harry watched Louis turn his head, as if he was checking out the room. 

“And why are you here?” he asked tentatively. 

Louis’ gaze landed on him, and he looked scared. His voice was just above a whisper when he spoke. “Isn’t it obvious?” 

Harry’s arms fell to his side, and he kept his eyes on Louis. He licked his lips, watching Louis come closer again. “I hope so.” 

Slowly, Louis crowded his space again. He was warmer now, much warmer. His fingertips were still a little cold, but they quickly warmed up to Harry’s skin when Louis framed his face. His lashes drew long shadows over his face, and his eyes were a stormy grey instead of their usual vibrant blue. Harry had seen them like that before, had looked into them every time they turned that colour. 

Placing his hands over Louis’ hips, Harry sighed when their lips met. Tentatively, softly, with only a hint of force, Louis kissed him, his lips slowly opening Harry’s up, his tongue gently swiping against Harry’s. It felt like falling, endlessly falling, knowing that there wouldn’t be a bottom. He’d fly before he’d hit it. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis murmured against his lips. 

Harry hummed, not sure what Louis even meant. He chased Louis’ lips, kissing him again. Louis came easily, gave easily. He tilted his head, playfully biting Harry’s bottom lip. Harry moaned quietly, already a step ahead in his mind. 

Louis shook his head, pressing his lips together as he drew back. He pressed his palms against Harry’s chest, but stayed in his arms. “How am I supposed not to want you like this?” 

Harry’s head cleared, and he blinked, trying to focus. His fingers were squeezing Louis’ hips, pulling his groin close to his own. Their lips were still close, and Louis’ were red and swollen from their kiss. 

As if he had burnt himself, Harry let go of Louis, taking several steps back. 

He hadn’t been thinking, had been too overwhelmed by Louis being back in his arms, that he had completely forgotten what had made him take a step back from Louis in the first place. He couldn’t just touch Louis like that, couldn’t approach him that fast-paced. 

“Don’t do that, L.A.” Louis wound his arms around his chest, as if he was cold. 

“Do what?” Harry asked. 

“Treat me like a trembling virgin.” Louis kept his head up, eyes fixed on Harry’s. “I can’t take that.” 

“I can’t just ignore it, Louis.” Harry inhaled, crossing his arms again.

Louis nodded sternly. “But is it that important?” 

“It wouldn’t have hurt to know before I--” Harry clenched his jaw. It was only the two of them, so there was no reason to hold anything back. “Before I ate you out, or fed you my cock. God, Louis, you don’t do things like that with completely inexperienced people.” 

“Why?” Louis’ mouth got a stubborn tilt now. “Because I’m not able to appreciate it properly? Believe me, I  _ did _ appreciate it, and I think I showed it, too.” 

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Harry laughed bitterly. “You just go slower with people who haven’t had sex before. Christ sake, Louis. You blew me completely inexperienced, too, didn’t you?” 

Now, Louis blushed, but his jaw clenched and he kept his eyes on Harry’s. “I know it wasn’t the best you received.” 

“That is not the issue here.” Harry couldn’t believe that Louis actually thought that was the problem. That Harry had been dissatisfied in any way. “The point of a relationship, of trusting your partner is to do it together. Did it ever cross your mind that I’d have guided you through it? That I’d have been much more careful? I fucked your mouth, and I could’ve hurt you.” 

Harry could see Louis’ facade starting to crumble. “That was my risk to take.” 

“It’s not!” Harry threw his hands in the air, frustrated with Louis’ argumentation. How did he even come to believe any of that? “If you think that, we probably have completely different notions of what sex should be like.” 

Louis ran a hand over his face, sighing quietly. “I didn’t come to fight.” 

“I know.” Harry pressed his lips together. Louis looked small like that; shoulders hunched and head hung low. “I know.” 

“I couldn’t possibly tell you when we first slept with each other, could I?” Louis looked up again, eyes hazy with emotion. He looked hurt. “We weren’t even friends at that point. I wanted you, Harry, and I knew I couldn’t have you if you knew I had no experience.” 

Harry’s stomach fluttered with those words. “I get that. I just think it was different in the end. You could’ve trusted me.” 

“In the end,” Louis repeated. “Does this one detail really make me not stand another chance?” 

Louis had never lost his chances. Harry needed to work on making him understand that, too. One thing at a time. “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page here.” He kept his eyes on Louis’ face. “That you understand why it’s an issue for me.” 

“You wanted to make it something special,” Louis replied, and his voice sounded more hopeful than mocking. 

“Yes.” Harry breathed out, shrugging helplessly. “I would’ve liked to make it special.” 

“Can I just say.” Louis pressed his lips together, obviously considering his words carefully. “I felt safe with you. I wasn’t scared or uncomfortable a single time, and I felt like you let me explore. You were careful every single time, even if you didn’t know.” 

How was Harry supposed to stay away? How was he supposed to keep a clear mind when Louis said things like that? He took a step closer, taking Louis’ hand between his. “Are you only saying that now because you think it’s what I wanna hear?” 

“No.” Louis kept his eyes firmly on Harry’s, not even blinking. “I’m saying it because that’s how I feel about it.” 

“You know, there’s a lot of things I haven’t done, either.” Harry played with Louis’ fingers, slowly tangling and untangling them.

Louis sighed, apparently feeling lighter with those words. He shook his head, smiling. “I wouldn’t mind exploring them together.” 

“That sounds like a solid plan.” Harry bit back a grin, happiness bubbling up in his chest. This felt like the end of the road, maybe a junction where their paths were finally crossing. Whatever it was that had led them here, to being in this hotel room in Norway, Harry was grateful that it had happened. 

“I came here for something else, though.” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand before he withdrew his own. “I never gave you a proper Christmas present.” 

Harry raised a brow. “You came here to give me a Christmas present?” 

Nodding, Louis shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat again. “It couldn’t wait. I wanted you to have it.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Louis.” Harry tilted his head, not sure if he should feel amused or cockblocked. He had thought their conversation was going in a different direction. “That’s what you made the long way to Norway for?” 

“You got me the nicest, most thoughtful and best Christmas present I’ve ever received.” Louis took his hands out of his pockets and held his fists out for Harry. “It took me a while to come up with what I wanted to give you, but I figured it out last week. Took me a while to get it, but as soon as it was a done deal, I came here.” 

Harry stared at Louis’ fists, frowning. “What is it?” 

“You get to choose.” Louis smiled, looking excited like a little kid. “Left or Right?” 

Unsure which one to take, Harry looked between Louis’ outstretched hands. 

“If you’re lucky you’ll get the one with your name on it,” Louis said, patiently keeping his hands fisted in the air between them. Waiting. 

Harry kept his eyes on Louis when he took his left hand and slowly turned it around. Louis grinned, bright like the sun when he uncurled his fingers and revealed the key in his palm. 

“A key?” Harry asked. 

“I bought a house,” Louis explained. 

Harry took the key, looking at the chain dangling from it. It was one of the cheap tourists souvenirs they sold in Hollywood, pink strass forming two letters: L.A. 

“I want you to have a key to my house.” Louis opened his other fist and revealed a second key; tied to a different chain. “It’s big enough so that no one has to share a bed when my family comes over. Only if they want to. And mine, of course. I’d love for you to share mine.” 

Harry’s chest felt tight, but not in a panicky way. He felt so overwhelmed, fingers curled around the key, eyes on Louis. “You said you didn’t want a house in L.A.” 

Louis shrugged, nodding lightly. “I never needed one. I didn’t feel home there. But, you know.” He stepped closer, unable to hide his nervousness. Harry could see it in his eyes, could hear it in the slight tremble of his voice. “I kinda came to love L.A.” 

Harry didn’t know if he should laugh or drop to his knees and beg Louis to repeat it a million times. That was just like Louis. Only he’d come up with a line like that. Harry tried staying unsuspicious, though, not giving away how much that line really got to him. 

He looked at the key in his hand again. “What’s the other keychain?” 

He could see it in Louis’ eyes, the moment he realised Harry was playing along. Louis smirked, letting the chain dangle from his fingers. Harry frowned, tilting his head to look at it properly. 

_ No parking.  _

“That again.” Harry looked back at Louis. “You keep referencing it. What is that about?” 

Louis let the keychain replica of the traffic sign disappear in his hand. “Remember our very first date?” 

“Café Habana,” Harry provided. “Of course.” 

“You parked directly next to a no parking sign. When I told you, you just said that it obviously didn’t apply to you.” Louis shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I thought you were the biggest prick on earth.” 

“I always park there.” Harry pursed his lips. “I’ve got Cindy’s permission.” 

“I know.” Louis let the key slide back into his pocket. “You earn your privileges.” 

Harry looked at his own key. “Like this one?” 

“Totally earned,” Louis said. He reached out for Harry’s hand again. “Every single bit of it.”

Finding Louis’ gaze, Harry smiled. “I--” 

A knock on his door startled both of them. 

“Harry?” Paul asked. “Are you all right? You’re late for breakfast.” 

“Fuck,” Harry cursed under his breath. “I forgot the time.” 

“Do I have to hide?” Louis asked, looking worried. 

“Just stay out of sight.” Harry went to the door, opening it. “Paul. Sorry.” 

“Everyone’s downstairs already.” Paul frowned. “It’s unlike you to be late.” 

“Sorry. Really.” Harry touched his hair, shrugging helplessly. “I’ll be down in ten.”

“Okay.” Paul looked suspicious, but he didn’t prod any further. 

Harry closed the door and leaned against it after he turned. “I’m not sure if you’re allowed to be here. I signed a contract that I wouldn’t tell anyone about the film location. Not even my family know where I am.” 

Louis’ shoulders sagged. “I should leave.” 

“Are you nuts?” Harry moved over, framing Louis’ face with his hands. “I’m not letting you go. But you’ll have to hide in here until I’ve talked to Nick.” 

“I could use some sleep.” Louis glanced at the bed. “It’s been a long journey.” 

“But completely worth it.” Harry dragged his lips over Louis’. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked, and some of that nervousness shone through again. 

“I missed you.” Harry smiled when Louis sighed against his mouth. “I missed this.”

Louis pressed his lips together, looking pleased. He took a step back, though. “Get dressed, L.A. They’re waiting for you.” 

“I only need five minutes to get dressed.” Harry leaned in again, kissing Louis once more. 

He wasn’t sure if it was him or Louis melting like wax in the sun. The way they moulded together felt natural and just like Harry remembered. They fit. His hand fit perfectly around Louis’ hip, their chests aligned smoothly and when Harry spread his legs slightly, Louis slid one of his legs in between them like a missing puzzle piece. 

Harry was sure that this was what it felt like to be a half of a whole. 

Louis sighed into their kiss, winding his arms around Harry’s neck as he got to his toes. He pressed himself closer, kissed more eagerly. As if he’d been starving without it. 

Three. Harry could totally make it in three minutes. 

+++

Louis opened his eyes, blinking against the bright sunlight falling on his face. He was disoriented for a moment, not sure where he was. He smelled Harry on those sheets and everything came back in an instant, his body relaxing with the memory of Harry kissing him. Then he remembered that some noise had woken him up and turned around on the bed. 

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Harry said. He stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and a fond expression on his face. 

Louis stretched before he rested his arms on the pillow, bedding his head on them. “I got a little bored.” 

Harry hummed, eyes roaming over Louis’ body. He wore one of Harry’s t-shirts and his own boxershorts, and had got comfortable in Harry’s bed. The TV was on, and he had raided Harry’s bag for something to eat. A package of salt and vinegar crisps had been all he’d found. 

“Sorry,” Louis said in an afterthought. “I didn’t bring a single thing, so I had to use your stuff.” 

“I’ve sent Paul to buy the most urgent things.” Harry rocked back on his heels, lifting a white plastic bag in his hand. “Nick talked to the production team. They’re putting up a contract for you too, that prohibits you from talking about this.” 

“I’ve signed worse contracts in my life.” Louis sat up, wondering why Harry was still standing there. He hadn’t come all the way for them to waste the little time they had ten feet apart. 

“How long will you stay?” Harry asked. 

And now they were getting to the important matters. “I’ve got another casting in L.A. on Thursday. Guess I’ll have to leave on Tuesday to make it.”

“That leaves us two days.” Harry pursed his lips. “Minus the time on set. You can at least be there, though. If you want to.” 

“I’d love to.” Louis nodded, heart fluttering with the prospect of getting to join Harry on set as his-- He bit his lip, not sure he was even allowed to think of himself as Harry’s boyfriend. 

“We resume filming tonight at three.” Harry grinned, obviously aware that Louis wouldn’t like it. 

“I didn’t sign up for this.” Groaning, Louis fell back onto the bed again, curling up. “What kind of film is this?” 

“A journey into a lonely soul’s mind.” Harry tilted his head. “It’s all quite surreal.” 

Louis nodded. “Guess I’ll see it for myself tonight, won’t I?” 

Harry’s smile grew wider. “Absolutely.” 

For a moment, they stayed like that, just looking at each other. Louis started feeling nervous with the intensity in Harry’s eyes directed right at him. He licked his lips, and saw Harry’s gaze following the motion. 

“Are you gonna keep standing there?” Louis asked after a while, shifting a little to make more space for Harry on the bed. 

“Depends.” Harry cleared his throat. “Do you want me to keep standing here?” 

“I mean.” Louis shrugged. “It’s your bed. I can’t really keep you from using it.” 

Harry hummed. “Looks like we’re sharing.” 

Maybe Louis should’ve thought this through a little more. The only thing he had brought with him were his wallet, his mobile phone and the two keys. He should’ve booked a room during the day, instead of assuming that he could just stay with Harry. 

“Hey.” Harry spoke softly, drawing Louis’ attention back to him. “What’s going on in your head?” 

“I can get my own room if you want,” Louis said, deciding that after everything he’s been through in the past month, honesty was probably the best way to go. 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want you to get your own room.” 

That made Louis frown. “Then why are you standing there instead of joining me?” 

“I’m not gonna keep my hands to myself.” Harry bit his lip, eyes darting down Louis’ body for a brief moment. 

“Good.” Louis patted the mattress. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.” 

“Louis.” Harry finally gave in and climbed into bed. He was looming over Louis when he apparently found the words he was looking for. “I don’t wanna do anything wrong.” 

Taking Harry’s hand, Louis kept his eyes on his face. “Let’s not make this awkward.” 

“I already did.” Harry tangled their fingers before he lay down next to Louis. “I couldn’t concentrate during the filming. All I could think about was you being here. In my bed.” 

“All I could think about was that I was here, without you. In your bed.” Louis licked his lips. “You wanna know what I did?” 

Harry’s cheeks flushed red and he shook his head. “Show me.” 

Louis smiled and leaned in, bringing his face close to Harry’s. “I didn’t do anything about it,” he whispered. “I waited for you to take care of me.” 

“What a bloody tease.” Harry groaned quietly, but it definitely didn’t leave him unbothered. Louis could tell from the way he licked his lips, and from his eye colour turning several shades darker. “You’re so annoying.” 

That made Louis’ heart skip a beat. He shifted even closer, not breaking their eye-contact. “Am I?” 

Harry barked out a laugh, rolling onto Louis. “Just come here already.” 

Louis obliged happily, meeting Harry halfway in a kiss. He spread his legs, accommodating Harry between them, while his fingers slid into Harry’s hair. It felt good, the way their bodies slot together so easily, the way Harry kissed him with so much passion. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Harry murmured, hands slipping beneath Louis’ shirt. 

“Why the bloody hell would I want you to stop?” Louis bucked up his hips, pressing his groin to Harry’s. “I’ll take whatever I can get.” 

“Babe.” Harry sighed, pinching Louis’ side. “You shouldn’t just take what you can get. I want you to enjoy this. Properly.” 

“I’ve always enjoyed it whenever I slept with you.” Louis tangled their legs, attaching his lips to Harry’s neck. “You make me feel so good, L.A.” 

Harry fell quiet for a moment, tilting his head back when Louis started sucking, gently grazing his teeth over the skin beneath Harry’s ear. He seemed to find his speech again when Louis had sucked a deep purple bruise into his skin. 

“You know,” Harry drawled, lazily starting to roll his hips against Louis’. “There’s a reason it’s called making love.” 

The implication behind it made Louis’ heart beat faster. He kept his eyes on Harry’s face, getting lost in their slow, sensual grinding. “Yeah?” 

Harry nodded, leaning in again to kiss Louis once more. His thumb rubbed over one of Louis’ nipples, his t-shirt bunching up beneath Louis’ armpits. He needed to get out of it. Immediately. As if Harry had read his thoughts, he stripped Louis out of the t-shirt and mindlessly dropped it on the floor. His own jumper followed within seconds and Louis lifted one hand to draw a finger over a tattoo on Harry’s biceps. 

“You gotta tell me about them some time,” Louis said, tracing the outline of the ship. 

Harry didn’t seem to hear. He was already back to touching Louis, focused on Louis’ abdomen and mind set on getting them off, as it seemed. His fingers dipped beneath the waistline of the boxershorts, pulling them down on one side. “You’re a view, you know that?” 

“Dunno.” Louis closed his eyes when Harry kissed his chest, tongue leaving behind a wet trail. “Don’t look at myself like that.” 

“We should get one of those rooms sometime.” Harry shoved the boxershorts down, past Louis’ knees. “With a mirror on the ceiling. I want you to see how gorgeous you are when you come.” 

Louis moaned, bucking up his hips. “Babe.” 

Detaching himself for a moment, Harry got rid of his clothes, then he loomed over Louis again, straddling his hips. He was a nice weight, pressing Louis into the mattress just right. Harry watched him, hands slowly running along Louis’ chest, down to his stomach and back up. 

“Harry,” Louis choked out, trying to get some friction as he moved his hips. Harry shifted, his arse pressing against Louis’ cock. “God, please.” 

Smiling, Harry leaned forwards, lips finding Louis’ earlobe. He lazily nibbled it. “Hmm?” 

“Can you fuck me?” Louis didn’t give a damn anymore. He just wanted; all he could feel was this unreasonable, all-consuming want. His fingers dug into the skin of Harry’s back, probably leaving imprints there. 

Harry traced his lips down to Louis’ neck, leaving a mark of his own. When he drew back to look at Louis, his eyes were clear. “I’m afraid I’m not prepared to.” 

Louis whined. “Don’t say no. I’m ready.” 

“I know, baby.” Harry sat up again, slowly rocking his hips. “I don’t have anything here to go through with it, though. We need lube and condoms. I’m not gonna fuck you bare.” 

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Louis murmured, closing his eyes. He moved with Harry, his cock smearing precome over the inner side of Harry’s thigh. “Been dreaming about you fucking into me. I wanna know what it’s like, L.A.” 

“You’ll know.” Harry tilted his head back, pressing his lips together when Louis curled his fingers around Harry’s cock. “You’ll know what it’s like, and you’ll know what it’s like to fuck me, too. You haven’t been the only one dreaming.” 

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” Louis asked. Heat pooled in his stomach, his chest feeling tight. The thought of Harry thinking about Louis when getting off was too much. 

“Lou,” Harry murmured, leaning forwards again to look at Louis. He looked strained, but kept up the steady rhythm of grinding his arse against Louis’ cock. “I love the way you blow me, the way you touch me. You do it so well. I couldn’t think of anything else but your fingers inside me. God, Louis, I can’t believe that was the first time you did it.” He groaned, closing his eyes. “You’re so bloody hot. A fucking natural.” 

Louis bit his lip, bucking up his hips as he came. Just the thought of getting to do it all with Harry while having him here, gloriously naked, lazily fucking into Louis’ hand -- it was all too much. Louis spilled, grunting and moaning, hand moving faster over Harry’s cock to pull him with Louis. 

Harry grabbed his wrist, gently removing Louis’ hand from his cock, and Louis was too sated, too weak to stop him. “What are you doing?” 

Harry grinned at him, pinning Louis’ hands above his head. He was out of breath, chest flushed, slightly gleaming with sweat. “We’re not done yet, babe.” 

+++

The second time Louis came, he was spread out on the bed, wrists caught between one of Harry’s hands, pressed against his chest. Harry’s mouth worked him over, lips stretched around Louis’ cock and taking him so, so well. He hummed contently when Louis came down his throat and swallowed eagerly. 

+++

Harry made him come a third time when he finally found release himself. He was rutting gracelessly against Louis, their hard cocks sliding together. Louis’ only gave a feeble twitch anymore, some come drippling out when Harry spurted his load all over Louis’ belly. He buried his face in Louis neck, rocking, grinding his hips hard as he moaned Louis’ name deeply. Louis held him, his own orgasm a slow wave rolling over him while Harry shook apart, biting down on Louis’ shoulder. He collapsed onto Louis afterwards, wrapping around him completely.

Louis stared at the ceiling, feeling sated, drained and incredibly happy, all at once. He tried catching his breath, running his fingers soothingly over Harry’s back. Harry was still panting, his come drying on Louis’ skin, sweat turning cold on his own. 

“You don’t do anything half-arsed, do you?” Louis murmured, feeling like he could fall asleep on the spot. 

“If it was good for you, it’s all that matters.” Harry slurred the words, obviously close to sleep himself. “You shouldn’t just take what you can get, Lou. You should be given everything.” 

Louis’ heart swelled at those words and he rolled them over, straddling Harry now. Harry blinked up at him, eyes darting down to the mess on Louis’ stomach. Louis framed Harry’s face with his hands, making him look at Louis. “I love you.” 

Harry blinked again, seeming a lot more awake now. 

“I should’ve told you clearly the moment I came into this room. It’s the only reason I’m here for.” Louis stared into Harry’s eyes, making sure that Harry could see it there as well. “I love you, L.A.” 

Harry rested his hands over Louis’ hips, lips stretching into a smile. “I love you, too,” he murmured. “It’s the only reason I was so upset over this whole thing.” 

Louis nodded. He should’ve figured why Harry had been so upset about unknowingly being Louis’ first. Harry liked to protect people, and he liked taking care of them. It must have had eaten Harry up from inside that he hadn’t known he was Louis’ first. Harry was the type of lover who made their partner’s first time a special occasion, who went all out on the romantic aspect. 

“We’ll go all out on the romantic part for when you fuck me the first time.” He slid his hands down over Harry’s neck to his chest. “Candles, sexy music. Lace.” 

Harry’s eyes darkened. “Lace?” 

Grinning Louis leaned in to kiss Harry, finding his lips already open for Louis’ tongue to lazily lick inside Harry’s mouth. Harry sighed quietly, his cock twitching weakly. 

“Care to elaborate on that idea?” he whispered against Louis’ lips. 

+++

The alarm went off when the room was still wrapped in complete darkness. 

“Baby,” Harry mumbled, turning around in Louis’ arms. They’d been spooning, Louis’ front pressed to Harry’s back, but now Harry buried his face in Louis’ neck. “We gotta get up.” 

“No,” Louis slurred, fingers dragging over Harry’s side. “ _ You _ have to get up.” 

Harry chuckled quietly, lips moving up Louis’ neck to his chin. “You said you’d come with me on set.” 

“I changed my mind.” Louis tilted his head, eyes still closed. The way Harry gently bit his chin was sensual, and at the same time loving. “I wanna stay in bed.” 

Harry sat up, and Louis whined quietly, losing his warmth. He reached out and Harry took his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I already told the others I’d bring my boyfriend.” 

Louis opened his eyes, his throat feeling tight. “Your boyfriend?” 

For a moment, Harry was quiet. “Was that wrong?” 

“No,” Louis replied immediately. He sat up, too, hand coming to rest on Harry’s cheek. “I like the sound of it. It’s for real, this time.”

“No pretence,” Harry agreed. 

Louis leaned in, and they both tasted stale and of sleep, but he didn’t care. Harry gently pressed Louis back onto the mattress, lying on top of him, legs tangling. For a moment, Louis got lost in it, let it spin out of control. He just couldn’t get enough of Harry’s skin on his, of Harry’s fingers touching him, of Harry’s lips marking him. 

“Babe,” he choked out after a few minutes, checking the bedside clock. “Baby, we don’t have time.” 

“Thirty minutes.” Harry lifted his head, lips red and swollen. “We should shower.” 

“I don’t wanna be the reason you’re late.” Louis climbed out of bed, turning on the light.

Harry followed him, crowding Louis’ space, pressing against his back when he went into the bathroom. “You’re the reason,” he murmured, hands on Louis’ hips, mouth close to Louis’ ear. His voice was hushed, low. “For everything.” 

Louis’ heart skipped a beat. He switched on the water as he stepped into the shower and turned back around to Harry. “L.A.--” 

“Not much time,” Harry reminded him. Water was dripping down his chin, his hair matted to his head. His pupils were blown, his lips parted, and his cock already half-hard against Louis’ thigh. “Put that mouth to better use.” 

Louis didn’t have to be told twice. 

+++

“Are you nervous?” Louis asked, lifting their laced hands to his mouth. 

Harry nodded. “Oddly enough, I am.” 

They were in the back of a limousine, both dressed in smokings. Louis was classic black, combined with a crème-coloured shirt. Harry’s was grey, combined with a black shirt. As always, Lottie and Barbara had coordinated their outfits and come up with an ensemble that made them look like a couple without making it too couple-y. 

For the most important event of the year, they had to look good, after all. Especially, if one of them was going to get up on stage. 

They were both nominated for an Oscar. Both of them in the category of Best Actor, and Harry had an additional nomination for Best Supporting Actor. It meant that they were up against each other, and Harry knew that as soon as they’d leave the car, every reporter would focus on that. 

Provided that they’d even get to the topic. 

After a long talk, Harry and Louis had decided to keep their relationship private until today. It had been so public before, every step they had taken documented on social media or in the press. For now, they had wanted to keep this to themselves and to have some time to figure out how to be a couple -- be a couple for real. 

Harry let his eyes roam over Louis’ face, watching him mindlessly dragging his lips over the back of Harry’s hand. He was lost in thoughts, and Harry loved watching him like this. There was something so intimate about it. 

They were doing well. Even if this past month had been tough on them schedule-wise, they had somehow made it work. Harry had been on set for his film, and Louis had started working on an HBO TV drama, for which filming hadn’t started yet. That hadn’t left them with a lot of time for each other, but somehow they had made it work.

Harry had spent most nights at Louis’ new house. Whenever they’d both been home, they had shared a bed, often enough lying awake together, talking until way past midnight. 

The car stopped and Louis looked up, shaking out of his thoughts. His gaze found Harry’s and he nodded sternly. “Let’s give them something to talk about.” 

Harry smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss. It was just a peck, but the way Louis squeezed his hand while kissing Harry’s lips was incredibly soothing. “It’s what we came here for.” 

“Love you,” Louis murmured against Harry’s lips, just loud enough so Harry could catch it. 

The door on Harry’s side was opened and he got out, waving at the masses left and right of the red carpet. They were cheering, calling his name, flashlights coming from every angle. Harry turned, holding his hand out. Louis took it and let Harry help him out of the limousine. 

The noise intensified and the flashlights brightened the whole area. Louis just grinned at Harry, eyes sparkling even brighter than that. Harry had no idea how that was even possible, but it seemed like everything about Louis was always so much brighter than any star or any light in his proximity. He looked beautiful like that, and Harry couldn’t help but tell him. 

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, leaning in to speak into Louis’ ear. “I haven’t even told you yet.”

Louis turned his head, lips finding Harry’s in a gentle kiss. The noise got so loud that it turned into a white noise in Harry’s head, getting lost beneath the sound of Harry’s heart beating wildly. The only thing that mattered were Louis’ lips on his and Louis’ fingers laced with Harry’s. Louis was still smiling when they drew apart, looking content with himself; with them. 

“Louis, Harry!” the first reporter stopped them a mere three meters down the red carpet. “Can you tell us when you got back together?” 

Harry looked at Louis, both of them grinning already. They were probably thinking the same. There was no such thing as  _ getting back together _ , when they had never really been together before this. Or maybe they’d been; the lines were pretty blurred on that one.

“To be honest,” Louis said, winking at Harry. “We never broke up in the first place.” 

Harry smiled, holding Louis’ gaze for a moment, saying everything without speaking a single word. 

It wasn’t a lie. 

===  Fin. ===

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3 
> 
> See you for my next fic :)


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've finished this fic, but I thought they deserve an epilogue. So here it is! :) 
> 
> Happy Birthday Violaine!!

“All by yourself today?” the interviewer asked as Louis stopped for her on the red carpet.

He smiled, shrugging slightly. “All by myself.”

She raised a brow, shoving the microphone closer to Louis’ face. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Not at all.” Louis frowned slightly. “Harry’s filming in London, so he couldn’t come tonight.”

“We haven’t seen you together in a while.”

Louis shrugged again. “We’re both very private. I can tell you,” he added before taking a step back, “we’re more than fine.”

With that, he turned around and walked inside the theatre. It was warm inside, and Louis wished he could take off his blazer. Lottie had instructed him to leave it on until the after party, though. As long as the cameras were still rolling, and people took photos of him.

Coming alone to these kinds of events was never fun. Louis couldn’t even remember how he survived them before he had Harry. It was a bit cheesy, but Harry made everything a little more bearable, a little more entertaining, a little more worth Louis’ time.

The interviewer had been right. They hadn’t shown up together to these kind of events in a long time. Their work schedules had not permitted them to spend a lot of time together in general, and it started to make Louis feel a little strained, a bit on the edge – not whole.

Had someone told him two years ago that part of his happiness was going to depend on Harry Styles, he would have laughed in their face. It was a little ridiculous.

“Hey, Louis.” He turned around, spotting Chris Lyall approaching him.

Smiling, Louis held out a hand. “Hi, Chris. Good to see you.”

Chris nodded, shaking Louis’ hand. “Are you on your own tonight?”

“All by myself. You?”

At that moment, Luke showed up, coming to stand next to Chris. “Hi. Louis, it’s great to see you.”

“It’s been a while.” Louis still wasn’t comfortable seeing Luke. It’d been one or two times since he and Harry had become an item, and each time Louis had seen Luke, he’d always been with Harry, so Louis could have stood back. It was easier to leave the talking to Harry.

“How’s my boy Harry?” Luke asked.

Louis struggled to keep the friendly expression. “He’s well. Thanks.”

“I haven’t seen him in ages.” Luke sighed, as if that was devastating news. To Louis, it was rather good news. “Why’s he not here tonight?”

“He’s working on a film in London.” Louis glanced at the bar, wishing he had a drink right now. “Busy, as always.”

“Is he gonna join the Marvel franchise, too?” Chris asked.

Louis shook his head slightly. That had made the rounds quite quickly. He had only signed the deal with the Marvel Studios last week. “One superhero is enough in this relationship.”

There was a noise, a soft ringing of a bell, announcing the start of the programme. Louis felt gratitude for the sound wash over him.

“Guess we should go to our seats.” Chris put a hand on Luke’s back, gently leading him to the entrance.

“Have fun,” Louis said, relieved he had to take the stairs to the balcony seats. “See you next time.”

Rolling his eyes, he climbed the stairs by himself. When he reached his seat, he found that he was seated next to Ben Winston, one of Hollywood’s most in-demand producers at the moment. This evening wasn’t going well.

They made some small-talk for a while, then the show started and Louis was thankful for that. He actually enjoyed the play, and was glad he had come, because all proceeds from tonight were going to be donated to different charities.

After the play, Winston accompanied him back outside. He kept chatting, and Louis acknowledged him with a few words here and there. He just wanted to go home and sleep.

“By the way,” Winston said, hands in his pockets as they walked down the stairs. “Are you still in a PR thing with Styles? I have a good match in mind for your next season.”

Louis frowned, glancing at him. “We’re not a PR thing.”

“You just happen to share how loved-up you are on instagram.” Winston waved it off. “Come on. Everyone knows it’s a PR thing. It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Louis insisted, growing impatient. “You don’t have PR relationships for two years.”

“I mean, why not? It works out fine for you and Styles, doesn’t it?”

“I told you, it’s not—”

“Whatever.” Winston shrugged. “If you need a next one, let me know. I need to get one of the stars for my next project a bit of good PR.”

Louis decided that it’d be best to just go. He turned around and left Winston standing in the lobby. Outside, he passed all of the reporters, not stopping for any of them. He got into the limousine, closing his eyes as soon as he was seated in the backseat.

What a miserable night this was.

+++

He couldn’t sleep.

It was already late, way after midnight and Louis kept tossing and turning in their king sized bed. He loved everything about the house, but hated it when he had to be here all by himself. This bed was made for two, and the second floor was made for a family. There were eight bedrooms, and all of them were empty tonight. Excpt for this one.

_My boy Harry._

Louis could still feel the anger come to boil inside his chest. He couldn’t have forgotten about it all night, and the more he kept thinking about it, the more he hated it. Luke acted like he and Harry shared something special, when clearly, Harry had ended things between them because it hadn’t been special enough. Not even close to it.

Harry had never even been Luke’s boy.

Frowning, Louis stared at the ceiling, listening to sounds of the night coming from outside. He inhaled and grabbed his mobile phone from the night stand, pressing the first number on quick dial.

“Lou,” Harry greeted him. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Just got home,” Louis lied. “Thought I’d tell you good morning before going to sleep.”

“How was the charity play?” Harry asked.

“All right.” Louis closed his eyes. “What are you up to today?”

“Last day of filming.” He sounded chipper, fresh and bright. Louis wondered how long Harry’d been up already. “Cecilia has her last day, too. I’m gonna sleep for ages tonight.”

He kept on talking and Louis listened. He didn’t even listen to what Harry was actually saying, just let the melody of his voice calm Louis down. He’d become so familiar with it. Every single note, every high and every low of Harry’s voice was engraved to Louis’ memory.

“And then I gotta—”

“Hey, L.A.?” Louis interrupted him, heart swollen with how much it ached to have Harry closer.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, sounding curious.

“Will you marry me?”

Harry was silent for a moment. His voice was high-pitched when he asked, “Will I _what_?”

“It’s Will-I-Am.” Louis inhaled on a shaky breath. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing right now, but decided to just go with the flow. “Come on, Harry. I’m serious.”

“You’re proposing to me on the bloody _telephone_?” Harry sounded outraged. “You _cannot_ be serious!”

Louis fell silent. “Is that a No?”

Harry huffed out a noise. “Are you drunk or summat?”

“I didn’t have a single drop of alcohol.” Louis pressed his lips together. “But I see. The thought of marrying me is so hilarious to you that you would only think of it when getting drunk.”

“Lou, babe.” Harry sighed. “What the fuck is wrong?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” Harry was silent for a moment. “Proposing on the telephone, though? Desperate. Nothing my oh-so romantic boyfriend would usually do.”

Louis bit his lip. He knew Harry was right. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel hurt. “I met Luke tonight.”

Harry hummed. “I see.”

“I just.” Louis stopped, sorting through his thoughts. “Everyone thinks we’re nothing serious. Just PR.”

“That’s not true,” Harry murmured.

“ _How’s my boy Harry_ ,” Louis imitated Luke’s voice. “I wanted to punch his stupid face.”

Harry was silent for a long moment. “I’m no one’s but yours, okay?”

“Not really, though,” Louis answered. “Not officially.”

“Well, since I’m not sleeping with other people, and you’re not sleeping with other people, and we have several houses together around the globe,” Harry said, “I’d say we’re pretty official.”

Louis kept staring at the ceiling. He just hummed.

“Hey,” Harry cut into his thoughts. “I gotta run.”

“Okay,” Louis murmured. He didn’t want to sound as broken as he did.

Harry’s voice was soft. “Next time you propose to me, I expect a grand gesture. Rings and flowers and romantic music at a restaurant you booked just for the two of us. The whole programme, okay?”

“That sounds nice.” Louis turned to his side. “You deserve nothing less.”

“Did you get one of my t-shirts?” Harry asked, the background noise getting louder. He had most likely arrived at the set.

“No,” Louis answered, glancing at the walk-in cupboard.

“Get one. Put it on,” Harry instructed. “You’ll feel better.”

He probably would. “Can’t wait to be home.”

“Same.” Louis could hear the smile in Harry’s voice. “Sleep well, baby. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Louis said before he hung up.

Sighing, he got up and did as Harry had told him. As always, Harry had been right, and Louis was out like a light the next time his head touched the pillow.

+++

Maybe they could just pretend that it hadn’t happened.

Louis arrived at Heathrow Airport three days later with mixed feelings. He was looking forward to see Harry, excited to finally be back with him again, but at the same time, he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

He had proposed to Harry on the phone.

In his defence, he had been on a low. He had felt frustrated and desperate, and he had missed Harry, and he— well. Louis sighed as he switched on his mobile phone in the car. He had been jealous.

That was something Louis had never been good at handling. And Harry had a talent for making him jealous, he really did. It’d been like that from the very beginning of their relationship – even when they hadn’t even been in a real relationship. Their first time having sex had been a result of Louis’ jealousy.

Maybe he’d be able to distract Harry with sex. Harry would definitely want to talk about it, and that was the last thing Louis wanted. He just wanted to forget it had ever happened.

As soon as his mobile phone was back on, he received several text messages. Louis opened Harry’s first.

_Won’t be there when you get home. Meet me for dinner at 8? Pierre’s? xx_

Louis sighed, checking his watch. He should be able to make it in time.

_Can’t wait_ , he texted back, adding several Xs as well.

He checked the other messages until he reached their London house. Telling the driver to wait, Louis rushed inside. He assumed that Harry would take him back home in his car, so there was no need to drive himself.

Louis changed into some fresh clothes, washed his face and styled his hair in a rush, then he was back in the car. The drive didn’t take long and this time, Louis was watching the houses pass by, feeling excited.

The restaurant looked dark when he arrived. He checked Harry’s message again, making sure he’d got the right one. When he pressed the door, it opened, so Louis walked in.

His heart stopped when he saw one single table in the middle of the room, set for two. A candle was lit, a bottle of champagne waited to be opened in a cooler, and a bouquet of roses adorned the table. All the lights were dimmed, it smelled of good food, and there was only one person to see.

Harry.

Louis’ knees got weak.

“Glad you could make it,” Harry said, taking a step closer. His voice was a little raspy. “You look good. Really good.”

Louis blinked. Once, Twice. Nothing changed. “What is going on?” As if he didn’t know what this was.

“As if you don’t know what this is,” Harry said, a wobbly smile forming on his lips.

“You don’t–” Louis swallowed. “Just because I–”

Harry crossed his arms. “I had this planned for months. Months!” He gestured around. “All of it. Every detail. And you just go and propose to me on the bloody telephone.”

Louis stared at him, unable to move. “You had this planned?”

“Will you finally come over here?” Harry sounded impatient, and Louis’ heart started beating wildly. “You’re too far away.”

Louis slowly walked towards Harry. He put his hand into Harry’s when he held it out for Louis. Harry pulled him against his chest, one hand coming up to cup Louis’ cheek. They stood like that for a moment, just looking at each other, and Louis’ heartbeat slowed down a little.

“I missed you so much,” Harry said lowly, leaning his forehead against Louis’.

Louis closed his eyes, nodding softly. He let himself be kissed, lips slowly opening up for Harry’s tongue. His soft sigh was echoed by Harry’s, familiarity washing over him when Harry laced their fingers.

Harry pulled back after a moment. He withdrew his hand from Louis’ cheek and brought it up between their chests. With one move of his thumb, he opened the black velvet box he held and revealed a pair of silverbands to Louis.

Louis stared at them for a moment; at the warm light being reflected by the cool metal. They were simple, plain – nothing like the flamboyant and flashy ones Harry usually wore. With a deep inhale, Louis looked up at Harry’s face.

He was smiling, eyes glued to Louis’ face. He pressed his lips together briefly before he spoke. “I’m your boy. All the way. As officially as it gets.”

Louis smiled at that, letting out a low chuckle.

“Will you marry me?” Harry asked, eyes holding Louis’.

“You didn’t say yes when I asked you.” He knew he was complaining just for the sake of it. They both knew what his answer was going to be.

Harry shook his head. “You didn’t really want our engagement to be settled over the phone, did you?”

“No,” Louis answered, suddenly feeling way too serious. He glanced down at the rings again, then back up into Harry’s eyes. “I just wanted you to be mine.”

“I am. With or without those rings.” Harry smiled.

“Shouldn’t let them go to waste,” Louis murmured, holding out his hand.

Harry’s smile was bashful when he let go of Louis’ other hand to slide the ring over Louis’ ring finger. Louis took the second ring and put it on Harry’s, biting his lip to hold back a grin.

“You absolute fool,” Harry murmured as he leaned in to kiss Louis again. “I couldn’t believe you just went and ruined my plans like that.”

Louis chuckled, framing Harry’s face with his hands. “Nothing’s ruined.”

“You gave me a heart attack with that phone call.” Harry slung his arm around Louis’ waist to hold him closer. “The most unromantic gesture in the history of boyfriends ever.”

“That’s fiancée to you,” Louis corrected him, grinning madly. He couldn’t stop it. “Take that, Luke Connolly.”

Harry laughed, burying his face against Louis’ neck. They stayed like that for a moment, swaying slightly, Louis’ fingers gently playing with Harry’s hair.

“We gotta eat,” Harry said then, drawing back. “I invited all of our families and every friend who’s in town for a party in about thirty minutes.”

“You were pretty sure I’d say yes, weren’t you?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, I had a feeling we wanted the same thing after your last call.” He led Louis to the table, giving a sign for the staff. “We’ll have dessert at home later.”

Louis crossed their ankles under the table when a waiter came to open the champagne bottle. “I had hoped so.”

Harry held out his hand and Louis watched the rings align when he laced his fingers with Harry. They were silent for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Who knows about that call?” Louis asked then, meeting Harry’s eye.

“So far, no one,” Harry replied, a grin forming on his lips.

Louis hummed. “What will I have to do to keep it that way?”

The grin widened and Harry leaned in, drawing Louis closer to briefly brush their lips together. “We’ll see.”

===

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for everyone who's commented so far or left Kudos. It's greatly appreciated. You guys are all ace!! <33

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


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